There's no place like home


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Published: March 16th 2008
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Well I thought I'd split this blog into two as this one is more about what feels like an epic journey home.

I'd booked on the last shuttle bus from the hotel at 6.40pm, I realised this was very early but the options were to sit about in bars on a Friday night in the sweltering heat until late and I figured the best option was to sit about in the airport where I could read my book and keep cool until it was time to go.

All very well but the airport is massive and even as the night got later it was getting busier and busier. The noise levels were really starting to get to me and I was tired and getting a little bit grumpy. I was so early that my flight wasn't even announced on the boards yet. I've been reading the Nelson Mandela autobiography which although it's very good and interesting, it's a little bit heavy and I was struggling to get into it.

The airport is that big that there are 26 rows, one for each letter of the alphabet and they are incredibly well spaced out. I was sitting at row R where the Kuwait Airways desk is supposed to be, but at about 10.30pm I decided to go for a walk. At each of each row there is a board with flights, I walked up the other end of the row and it said that my flight was E4. I assumed that meant that they'd changed desks or something so pushed my trolley all the way up the other end of the departure lounge only to find out that those desks were for domestic flights only. I went to check the board again and the board at the other end of the row now said R.

One thing I found about the Thai's is that they are incredibly efficient. Everything works really well but they aren't very good at communicating things. I'm not sure whether this is because the Thai's know how everything works and we Farangs are so used to inefficent bumbling bureaucracy that we just expect everything to go wrong. I did feel sometimes like we were being herded like sheep from one form of transport to another. As I say though, you always end up getting from A to B but sometimes you really don't know how you managed it.

I found my check in desk eventually way back where I'd started and was a bit miffed to find that I was now halfway down the queue. Considering I'd been in the airport for what felt like a lifetime I should have really been first. Of course I picked the wrong queue and ended up behind 6 Kuwaiti men with about 100 cases. Then at one point they opened another desk and there was a surge of people trying to get to that one. This one guy pushed right passed me and got in the new queue which pissed me off no end. Then it turned out that that queue was the wrong one as it was for first class passengers which momentarily cheered me up until he barged passed me again. In London I would have normally told him to get out the way but a combination of a lovely holiday and fatigue stopped me from saying anything and I let him go before me. I did however ram him in the back of the legs with my trolley *evil grin*.

The departure lounge was a bit weird, you get through passport control and then straight away your in duty free without being scanned. I was so exhausted though that I bought some fags (for Maureen who has been looking after my cats) and went on the hunt for a chair. There were hardly any seats so I thought I'd keep walking towards the departure gate. Turns out that's when you go through the scans and once you get there there's plenty of seats, but nothing else. So I was stuck for about another hour and couldn't even get a drink of water or anything.

Once I got on the plane I literally fell asleep. I woke up during take off for about a minute and then pretty much slept all the way to Kuwait which seemed about the same for the rest of the passengers. I'd heard some bad reviews about Kuwait Airways about the in flight entertainment being rubbish and most of the tv's not working but it made no difference to me whatsoever. In fact I was confused when they asked me for my headphones as we were about to land, I didn't even remember them handing them out.

I had a two hour stopover in Kuwait and then the trip back to Blighty. It was quite cool to know I was flying over Iraq, also reassuring that we were 32000 feet in the air and hopefully the insurgents don't have weapons with that kind of reach. Watched a couple of decent films, one about a deaf Vietnam Vet who helped the disabled in America and Martian Child again. Food on the second plane was really good, had chicken with mashed potatoes, taboulleh salad, roll with cheese and coconut cake. They weren't very good with drinks though, you got one glass of soft drink and a water, and coffee/tea which I didn't want. I could have been doing with some more water as the plane was awful hot. Considering Kuwait is the 4th richest country in the world, they could really do with improving their national airline.

Once back in rip off Britain I decided that after a full 24 hours since I'd left Khao San Road that I really could not be doing with 1 1/2 hours on the Picadilly line only to lug my case up the stairs and then pay a tenner for a taxi down the road. I went out to enquire about a cab and the black cab driver asked where I was going, I said Hackney and he went "Nah I don't want to go that far". I was outraged, not only because i wasn't even decided on whether to get a cab or not, but just that in Bangkok those guys work for a pittance and would take you to the end of the earth because that's their jobs and that's how they get paid to put a meal on their families tables. I'm not going to start on a rant here but I can feel my blood boiling as I think about it. Anyway I said to him, I'm not asking you to take me but I'd like to know how much it would cost, he reckoned about 70 or 80 quid.

Black Cab Drivers and Ken Livingstone should be the first up against the wall come the revolution. Bastards. £70 or £80 I could get a flight back to Bangkok cheaper than that. So I decided to go hire a car. I paid £45 quid for a nice little Punto and drove myself back. Got stuck in some crap traffic around Central London but eventually got home at exactly 5.30pm. 3 weeks to the minute from when I left.

Now I have to take the car back to Heathrow but at least I'm clean, don't have 2 heavy bags with me and I think I may well stop off for the Paddy's Day parade in town on the way back.

I've enjoyed writing this blog immensely and will be sorry to stop, but unless you want to read about plans for the June user test and the updates to the BRACT database then I'm afraid you'll have to wait for my next trip.

One thing I have come away with is I'm not afraid to travel alone any more. I only have 2 more weeks of holiday left this year so I can't see any more big trips for the foreseeable future, but I do hope to do some nice weekends away. I've never been to Paris and theres no reason why I can't take off on a squeezyjet flight to Madrid or something. The world is indeed my oyster.

Jane
x

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16th March 2008

Ah welcome home my lovely! What an absolutely wicked trip, seems like you've been gone ages too, you've done so much! Been loving reading your blog, oh the wonder of technology! See you in a couple of weeks! Soz xxx

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