The morning started a little after 5.30 a.m. with the aid of
the alarm clock feature on my phone and after some stumbling in and out of the shower, some
packing and re packing to make sure everything would fit I was in reception
awaiting my French and Nottingham colleagues for our journey to the airport.
We arrived at Marseilles airport and as our French colleague
was flying from a different terminal we bid farewell and found our way into
terminal 1 and the local Starbucks for some morning coffee. We had arrived in good time as our French
colleague's flight was an hour earlier than ours so we had a little time to kill
and I hadn't realised how much I rely on technology and when you don’t
have it you feel almost naked. Now I am
back with my beloved laptop I have the window to the big world reopened. So I tried to invoke some old fashioned methodology
and tried speaking to my Nottingham colleague but as he had technology this was
a pointless affair.
The flight was pretty much on time and just after 1.00
p.m. we were in London. Now this is where
my story takes a turn for the worse. I
was out of the airport in quick time, my love of terminal 1 in Heathrow growing
all the time. The problem was once
outside. I had to wait for the purple
parking van to get back to the car park however this seemed to take ages to arrive
and when I checked the time I had waited 25 minutes when the first van turned
up, but promptly it left with the driving saying he wasn't going back to the car
park. We waited another 20 minutes when
a second van arrived and we were allowed on board.
Not the fault of the car park company, but the traffic on the road was
bad and it was another 25 minutes before we got to the car park and in total
from touchdown to be standing by my car it was almost 2 hours.
Of course it was Friday and the roads were horrendous and with my
scheduled detour to Chesterfield planned to get my PC fixed, it was going to be a long one. I rolled into Chesterfield around 6.30 p.m.
which wasn’t bad when you consider the conditions on the road, but my 10 minute
repair took over an hour which meant it was nearly 9.00 p.m. when I arrived at
home, tired and a little stressed.
Sometimes the journeys just never feel like they are going to end and
that day was one of them.
I was glad to get home but unfortunately my dog was also pleased I had got home and promptly jumped up when I walked through the door and managed to tear my t-shirt across
the shoulder with his claws. he can do this quite easily as when he stands up he is actually taller than me.
I suppose taller than most people as he
is now almost seven feet long from head to tail.
Still it is nice to be welcomed home with such enthusiasm as to almost
having your clothes ripped off your back as you walk through the door. Most people would dream of that reception but
very few will actually get it.
So with me looking for a swift change of clothing I bid you
all good night
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