Oh well, so this whole writing a blog whilst I'm away thing didn't really go to plan. Mainly because I am having far too much fun to be near the internet. But never fear as I have mentally saved everything up to write down later.
But, let us quickly shimmy back to the airport. I say shimmy because as Faye and I saw each other across a crowded terminal 4, harem pants akimbo, we stopped twenty yards away from each other and shimmied. Clearly a very Indian shimmy. We shimmied to check-in.
Faye asked the nice Indian chap if we were sitting together. He said yes.
I asked the nice Indian chap if we were sitting together in 1st class. He said...no.
Business? He laughed and told me not to ask such questions.
We shimmied onwards to passport control where I shimmied so much I dropped my boarding card and Faye kindly suggested we had best pipe down on the whole shimmying front.
We boarded the plane in an orderly fashion. We got to our seats and Faye was in the middle of a three seater. I was on the aisle. With no seat in front of me. It was EPIC. Faye huffed and puffed. She had, as you may recall, paid twenty quid extra.
As a smaller person, I should have swapped with her. But as my friend Katie will attest, I am a squat on legs and thus I needed all the leg room I could get. I offered nonetheless. She declined. We agreed on 'wacky time' - an expression our old friend Kate's mum apparently used to say when we were 4. To make sharing sound fun.
Anyway, there is a moral to this story. No matter how scruffy you look, always ask to be put into 1st class.
Then you will be given extra leg room.
And not have to talk to the person next to you.
Like Faye had to.
Whilst I casually sipped my red wine, spat out the spicy Indian rice crisp snack thing (this did not bode well), and popped in the old headphones to watch 'Bride Wars'.
But, let us quickly shimmy back to the airport. I say shimmy because as Faye and I saw each other across a crowded terminal 4, harem pants akimbo, we stopped twenty yards away from each other and shimmied. Clearly a very Indian shimmy. We shimmied to check-in.
Faye asked the nice Indian chap if we were sitting together. He said yes.
I asked the nice Indian chap if we were sitting together in 1st class. He said...no.
Business? He laughed and told me not to ask such questions.
We shimmied onwards to passport control where I shimmied so much I dropped my boarding card and Faye kindly suggested we had best pipe down on the whole shimmying front.
We boarded the plane in an orderly fashion. We got to our seats and Faye was in the middle of a three seater. I was on the aisle. With no seat in front of me. It was EPIC. Faye huffed and puffed. She had, as you may recall, paid twenty quid extra.
As a smaller person, I should have swapped with her. But as my friend Katie will attest, I am a squat on legs and thus I needed all the leg room I could get. I offered nonetheless. She declined. We agreed on 'wacky time' - an expression our old friend Kate's mum apparently used to say when we were 4. To make sharing sound fun.
Anyway, there is a moral to this story. No matter how scruffy you look, always ask to be put into 1st class.
Then you will be given extra leg room.
And not have to talk to the person next to you.
Like Faye had to.
Whilst I casually sipped my red wine, spat out the spicy Indian rice crisp snack thing (this did not bode well), and popped in the old headphones to watch 'Bride Wars'.
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