les Davey de France

Alan and Pat live and work in Bordeaux. Alan is a pastor and Pat was a nurse. Now we work with UFM worldwide. Read on! (If you'd like to know what took us to Bordeaux, then start with the archives from September 2004)

Friday, June 30, 2017

Coming back from EMA

I had time. My flight was from Gatwick at 18:45. The whole of London was before me, and a heavy bag was trailing behind me. I contemplated visiting the National Gallery, the British Museum, putting my bag in a cloakroom (do they still have them in museums?) dragging it up and down escalators in tube stations.

In the end I got on the bus for Brent Cross and went to see one of the joys of my life - the towels in John Lewis. I should have taken a photograph, really, but I just love those shelves and the way the colourful towels are arranged so neatly. If I could do one thing bring extra joy into our home it would be to stack towels in a small reflection of John Lewis' perfection.

After exploring Brent Cross - of course it was disappointing, but I always expected it would be, so in a funny kind of way it wasn't, I got a leisurely bad lunch in some fast food joint, then plotted my course for Gatwick airport. The C11 bus would take me to West Hampstead railway station, then a train to Brighton would take me straight to Gatwick. Wonderful! At West Hampstead the guy suggested that instead of buying a ticket I use my bank card on the swipe machines because it would be cheaper.

Gatwick airport was crowded and noisy. I bought some ghastly airport food. When did I get so picky?  I went to the quiet area to eat it and we all sat quietly listening to a lady talk on her mobile phone. I suppose she was doing that in the quiet area because in the rest of the airport she couldn't make herself heard. My flight was announced - delayed. I watched it on Flighttracker - the aeroplane was coming back from Ljubljana.

They announced the gate. I hared off down the corridors. 10 Minutes to gates 103 to 116 said the cheerful sign. That was when I hit a clot of people completely blocking the walkway. There was no possibility of bypass and no way to pass through. We were stuck.

Then I realised that we were moving. Ever so slowly, like people auditioning for a zombie apocalypse movie, we were oozing slowly through the corridor. Just ahead was a bifurcation. I needed to go left. The zombie army continued its inexorable trickle off to the right while I was off like a whippet to the left.

Speedy herding to the left. We sat and waited. Another announcement. There was a problem with the plane, the captain said it was going nowhere, they were waiting to see if we could have a change of plane. Fifteen minutes later we were on board the plane and waiting for a slot for take off.

I was so glad to see Bordeaux. Bus 1 took me to the centre of the city. Bus 4 back to friendly Pessac, the lime trees and the hooting owls. I got in at about midnight, far too pumped up to sleep.

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