Where Do I Live?

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A Flight Lacking In Something...

The flight from Addis to Sana'a in Yemen was quite short, so I didn't expect much.

Then there was the wait at the airport duty free wasn't much to write home about (I later found out that the antique electronics they had for sale didn't actually work) and their version of a lounge was a couple of plastic chairs around a plastic table. There wasn't much in the way of air con either, ad it was around 40 degrees (the airport was in a desert!).

Then on to the flight. I was a bit disappointed that I couldn't sit near James so I wasn't looking forward to being sat next to some one who I probably wouldn't be able to talk too. I was informed that we would be sitting in the same row, so there wouldn't be that much of a problem. Apparently.

After finding out that Somalia has become a relatively safe country to visit since the UIC took over (damn I knew I should have gone over) it was time to board the flight home. As always with jumbo jets I was expecting a bit of rugby scrum to get on so I was holding back to let every one else settle. Once through the metal detector at the 5th attempt, I dressed, identified my rucksack and got onto those weird bus thingies that take you to plane. It half empty so what sis it do? Sat there and waited. I wanted to scream I'm not in Africa any more so why am I waiting? But being acclimatised to Africa I sat there and waited.

It pulled up outside the plane. There weren't that many people waiting to get on. I thought that all I would have to do was find my seat and then we would be off. That was until I actually got on the plane. It was empty.

This is where you say a quick prayer, hoping that they were not going to wait until it was it was full before it left. Allah must have been listening. The door were closed seats in the upright position belts fastened and tables stowed and we were away...

Once in the ait I actually took a look behind me to see how many people were on this flight. I think I counted 12 people in economy...

Food was served , it was stale. There was no in flight movie and they were showing dodgy Lebanese 'you've been framed' comedy shows on the TV screens in the cabin. The crew were no where to be seen. All in all this flight lacked , not something but everything.

It was still the best flight I have ever been on. The amount of room available meant that I could actually lay down across the middle seats and sleep. Or I could lounge across a couple of seats while listening to the mp3 player. Best of all was the fact that I could actually take my boots off and walk around in my socks. On a long journey it is the little things that make the difference.

8 hours later we were at Heathrow we got off the plane into the tunnel thingy and then came to a set of doors. That were locked! We stood there and waited. And waited, Oh no not more waiting. I was about to walk up to the door bang on it shouting "Let me into my country!" but they did get round to opening them


It Took About 30 Seconds
To realise that I had probably made a mistake. None the less here I was. Immigration pulled me to one side and asked me a range of security questions and then bags needed to be claimed.

Once that was out of the way customs had to be negotiated and I was back in the UK. Boy it was hot.

I know I Live On This Street But I Don't Know Where

I had just about managed to get some messages out that I would be landing at Heathrow at around 6pm, earlier in the week. My family did not know that I was returning, and we had been out of touch for about 3 weeks.

Before I continue let me explain that the reason for the mystery isn't because I have forgotten. The rest of the family moved house while I was away. I had asked for the address but sibling kept ignoring the question... May I should have read some thing into that.

Irfan drove me to the right street and fortunately I noticed my mum's car parked up. So that gave me an indication. Now I knew the number was 14 something but that only narrowed it down to 5 houses. I was about to start knocking on doors randomly, but then I remembered that my brother had said that it needed some work on it. So the house without double glazing it was.

I knocked on the door waiting for a reply. Some one asked who it was I whispered back asking if this was the right house.


For the first time in my life my sister was speechless. I guess I'm home but not as I knew it...

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