Life in the Business Class lane is not quite as exciting when you exit the Cathay Pacific Lounge elevator and walk into a faithful reproduction of a Travel Lodge breakfast buffet, complete with litter, cheap pot noodles and a faint whiff of very British 1950s apathy. No problem, I think, two hours to wait and I have a nice stack of photos to sift through, ready for blogging. Aha, but in Heathrow – surely the world’s most hated airport – you have to pay for the privelege of bits of data, even in Business Class. Luckily, they have provided a few terminals for their patrons, but in true British style half refuse to connect to the internet, and only sit their taunting fresh people when they come in and sit down.
The remaining working computers are manned by a small team of children that are carefully dismantling the keyboards, and it is in this light that I levered one away from bashing away at an inane Java-based computer game and got on with the important task of writing this post. He is probably crying now but I don’t really care.
What to say? Well, two marvellously empty weeks in the UK, seeing close friends and family and generally enjoying being ill in the company of my wonderful mother. “Would you like a hot chocolate, dear?” …. “Yes” I croak. It has been what I needed – the last months of 2007 were not optimum and I resolve to change one or two elements of my life to calm things down and generally enjoy things as they come. It is simply not worth careering down a tunnel of work-related stress if it really does end up in permanent injury. Luckily, it seems I have escaped anything too much to worry about, but it did put the willies up me, I tell you.
And today – today! – Mum, Dad and I headed down for the coast of Essex and found just the most amazing fish restaurant in the Northern Hemisphere. When people talk about ‘getting back to our roots’, ‘eating local’ amd ‘seasonal vegetables’, forget all the bullshit from Tesco’s Finest and open restaurants that have great fish and ingredients, freshly picked, caught or slaughtered, and furnish the restaurant with as diverse range of people as possible – hopefully including some posh yachties, local Asbos with a love of oysters, and make them sit together. Marvellous. And rather like Taiwan!
Anyway – enough of my wordy words. Perhaps I will read a book, or have some more tiny complimentary cans of orange juice from the Little Chef buffet bar.
Some of the local industry has seen better days, sadly
Mud, glorious mud
Mum dishes out the bread
Reflecting on things
Keeping things on an even keel (yeah yeah sorry)