Did I mention I was leaving the country again?
I’ve had a number of people rolling their eyes this week when they heard I was going overseas: “Again?? Where to this time?” which left me feeling vaguely offended. I don’t go on holiday that often, do I? But then I remembered Japan and Fiji and felt that perhaps it was a fair comment.
Anyway, I’ve been working very hard on my Norwegian and am up to level 18, so I’m feeling quite proud of myself. Having said that, I watched two French movies on the plane (avec des sous-titres, bien sûr), and now I’m in the Silver Kris transit lounge at Singapore airport, so not many opportunities to practice so far.
It’s 7:22 am, our flight got in 30 minutes ago and I’m waiting for a shower. As usual there is a queue, so I’ve got one of those little UFO shaped buzzer things to tell me when there’s a shower free. There’s five minutes to go in the soccer match between Manchester United and Manchester City. Talk about a grudge match! Currently it’s 2:1 in favour of Man U. I’m drinking a soda water. Simon has logged onto his laptop to clear his work inbox and bemoaning the fact that the bar isn’t open. Any time is Negroni o’clock for some. Transit passengers are big business for Singapore, the lounge is heaving. I don’t know why they have the air con set so warm, though. I suppose you can’t please everyone, and it’s significantly warmer and more humid outside, but in the meantime I’m sweating in my black woollen dress and boots.
Our first destination is London, where we are spending the weekend before taking a night train to Aberdeen. Simon wasn’t that keen, since flying is faster and cheaper, but I overruled him. I hope I don’t regret it. The romance of train travel is lost on him.
I’ve got a conference in Aberdeen and then we’re slowly driving back down through Scotland and England to Southport, where we’re taking a cruise to Norway. The plan is to see the Northern Lights, a faint hope as it turns out. Never mind.
We’ll be back home in a month. The dogs and house are being expertly cared for by our daughter and her husband. (Ooh! Man City have just scored an equaliser in overtime). In fact I expect the dogs will get better treatment than when I am home. They’ll still miss me and be excited when I return though, because love and loyalty are what dogs do best.
(Penalty: Man U have just scored and seem very excited. Is it over then? No, they’re back playing again. 94 minutes on the clock, I thought it was 40 minutes a side? Oops. Maybe that’s just rugby. Hey, wait on, there’s Wayne Rooney, didn’t he retire years ago? Is this an old game? Oh well, full time, and Man U take it 3:2).
My buzzer hasn’t gone off, and Simon is starting to panic. He says if I am late for the flight he’ll go to the gate and try to hold them up. Poor man.
NB Considering he made me wait in Auckland while he finished his red wine, arguing that “ready to board” was not the same as “boarding”, and consequently having to elbow through the rabble to get to the priority boarding lane, I’m less than sympathetic.
…..
My buzzer never went off, and when I went to the desk to ask what the story was, the man just took it off me before I’d said a word and sent me to shower number six. I have a vague feeling I might have jumped the queue, but really I was running out of time. I’m much more comfortable now after a tepid shower and in a cooler dress.
I’d forgotten they have security screening at the gate here in Singapore, so we were both feeling a little time pressured. But as it was, they’d just started boarding when we arrived. In spite of my bitchy comment about elbowing through the rabble above, I actually hate doing it. Although, not enough to wait.