Manchester Airport. I'm sat below two gigantic neon signs stating "Your turn" & asking "How alive are you?". Chortle.The picture of the bright red, racing F-Type Jaguar shouts youthful exuberance but we all know will be driven by members of the balding grey brigade. So maybe their question is spot on. Should they also ask about eyesight tests and the practicality of getting in and out of said sports car too?
Airport boredom at the final gate was punctured with an announcement - "can David err Robertson err Smit come to the booking desk?". Hold on that's me. "Are you David ?". "Yep". "They didn't book you on the front desk". "Right". Looking over to the plane I could see a dodgy looking guy on the tarmac waving my bag frantically over his head as if to throw it. "Is that your bag?". "Yes" (which was a guess as I couldn't see it without my specs).
After a delayed take off due to some bloke having a panic attack, the nine hour flight was made bearable by having a seat with extra legroom, painkillers from the retired couple next to me (my new root filling felt like it was being re-drilled as we took off) & films. By the time my choices were boiled down to the Lego Movie or a re-run of the Muppets Show, we were near Vancouver.
Welcome to Vancouver. First impressions. A more orderly, laid back US with english weather. Big trucks, big malls & lots of small asian folk (for some reason). Some things are just the same as the US though. Gun fight in high street Edmonton, Alberta yesterday (3 dead).Shooting in Sawmill, BC day before (2 dead).
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