Pithy and Forthright: St. James Infirmary

Sorry Possums* for being remiss. Was in transit from the South Coast of England to Belfast. I continue to battle a killer cold which, per usual, has invaded my chest cavity. Loads of deep resonating coughing spells to wake the dead. Other than that feel great. My bus from Bournemouth had a 7am departure time so scheduled a 6am taxi pick up. Maggie and John both said 6:30am. Should of heeded their understanding of the coach system but didn't. Stubborn mule that I am. Got overcharged on the taxi ride and the bus station was nearly empty save for a few elderly waiting for a bus to somewhere else which arrived shortly after I alighted at the station. They slowly climbed on to and a way they went. I had the bus station to myself for the next 40 minutes. Rained heavily all they way from Bournemouth to Heathrow. 2 hour ride. Some lovely countryside. If you've never experienced Heathrow it's a marvel. The ride from the first drop off at Terminal 5 to Terminal 1 takes at least 15 minutes. Terminal 1, was my drop off. You are actually dropped off at the bus terminal, exit, walk into the station, take an elevator up a floor and then the eternal path to Terminal 1 begins. Who needs a gym membership when you have Heathrow? Tuesday, November 5.

Early bird

Bournemouth Train and Coach Station 6:15 am.

Off they go

A few souls waiting for local transit

Honest it says 7:00am and we were off to Heathrow. 14 passengers.

Quiet comfortable ride.

Ghost reflection

Sign says Heathrow but what is interesting is when I snapped the photo NEVER saw the guy standing on the roadside.

Terminal 5. Another 15 minutes to Terminal 1

Plane landing so didn't expect any delay of my departure and there wasn't.

The trek begins

Snapped this as I walking onto the people mover thus the blur

Down this long hall way

Up the escalator

Into the checkin point where the fun really begun.

Went to the Kiosk to print the boarding pass having already checked in on line.

Tried twice, said "Reservation not scheduled." Frown face.

Thankfully no one at the counter so went right up and lo and behold, he found the reservation immediately. Also told me "gate 78 but double check the departure board." After here you go through security but to get to security they make you stand and have your picture taken. Then over to the lines which weren't long but taking off a coat, hoodie, unzipping bag to take out lap top and bag of liquids and opening the smaller bag to take out the iPad as well as slipping off shoes, all takes time. I admit I am also paranoid that one thing or another in the bins is going to get stolen so trying to watch every bin.

Walk through the scanner. Wait on the other side. Three bins through and the bag is being scanned. As I am slipping on my shoes I look up to see the man scanning the bag scowling as he looks over to me. I know this means I'm F'd.

Then another agent walks up to me and says "we are examining your bag, you have liquids, step over here." I say, "here are my liquids and hold up the baggie with them. There are none in the bag. However, fell free to look through it." I am seething not because they are doing their job but because in a mystery that no one has yet solved, the contents of the bag had grown over the past few days and it was a bitch to pack and zip up. Seriously, 2 small calendars and some Xmas cards, and the commemorative 49/Jaguar scarf, were all I had purchased. Maggie gave me a small leather coin dish That's all.

Nothing huge or heavy and yet took Herculean strength to zip the bag up. Personally I think it's dirt. I think when you wear something for three days it expands. You can't see it but it does and that's why a bag that closed easily before London was now a beastly struggle.

So, as the man takes everything out and I mean everything and finds NO liquids, I'm P.O.'d about having to repack. He finishes and says nothing. Not "sorry," not "thank you," simply goes back to whatever he does. I start to gather things up and then he says, "You'll need to do that somewhere else."

"I don't think so, young man. You didn't apologize for inconveniencing me by rummaging for non existent liquids and I am not sitting on the floor to repack this bag. Simple as that." Silent stare down. He turned away and went about his business. The woman behind said, "Bloody brilliant," and smiled at me.

Tired, traveler with cold and little sleep happily ensconced on a comfortable couch at Cafe Nero. Have flown British Air out of Terminal 1 on prior trips so knew this spot would be there awaiting my tired butt. A latte and chicken sandwich and a bag of chips from the adjacent Boots made up for the rude security.

Coffee, couch, comfort.

Who am I flying?

I want him as my flight captain. Right out of central casting!

Turns out these two were on my flight, as passengers.

Old school, new school communication.

The board posted "wait at departure gate 8," so off I trundled.

Get there and just as I walk up to a chair, I hear, "Passengers flying British Air 1416 to Belfast City please go to gate 78." Now, if I'd listened to the man who checked me in I would have already made my way to that gate but as he also had said "double check the board," and I had.

8 to 78. And we're off!

Oh look the sun is out

Into the silver tube. Soylent Green

Hi Ho

Keep walking. Round the corner, down the hall,

and there's my plane

Art shot.

My crew.

Easy flight. Tried to doze but couldn't so finished the iBook I'd be reading.

With the cold the dissent caused some pain in both ears. Was chewing gum and tried holding my nose and blowing. Popped the left one but the right one wouldn't clear. Still hasn't. Huh?

B's assistant Assistant, Annick had arranged for a driver to pick me up.

So sweet and so welcomed. I was beat.

Got into the apartment, unpacked.