Friday 12 April 2013

Friday 12th April 2013

Welcome to England.

Welcome to Kent.

Welcome to St Margaret's.

Yes, after the three day trip to the frozen wastelands of Denmark, I am back and baking. Yes, baking. Baking saffron buns. I have been working from home, dependant as it is on our dodgy interwebs connection. But, I managed to get some work done in spite of that.

I did have the cats for company, some of them needier than others. Mentioning no names here, Molly. But you are a very fine adult cat who does not need constant reassurances.

So, I left Denmark yesterday; the sun was shining for a change and with no snow. However, soon enough it clouded over and so stopping to look for another church was out, and anyway, I had to stay longer than planned as I had extra work to do. (no really)

So, I got to the airport, handed the Ford Fiesta or whatever it was. I checked in my bag and was given a card to gain access to the business lounge. Oh look, special strength beer! Oh, I'll have one of those, and some nibbles. Oh and another beer and some more nibbles. And one more for the road.

I poured myself onto the plane and promptly fell asleep for just about the whole flight, waking up as we descended for final approach so I could point the camera at bits of South East London and north Kent.

Once we were on the ground, we got off the plane and got into the the terminal to find an enormous queue to get through immigration. You're not jumping the queue, pal. So set the tone as mild-mannered business types sharpened their brollies ready for battle. It was fun to watch but the raised voices and threats melted away.

So, back home in Blighty, just have to get home. I caught the train to Ashford, changed to a Dover bound train, and that was it; the end of an 18 hour day, and home in time for a cuppa and then to bed.

One thing i did see whilst waiting at the queue for immigration was a woman from America, probably in her 60s, slim, still has curves. And then I saw her face; clearly, someone who had seen her fair share of plastic surgery clinics, her face now sagged and had the appearance of a couple of bags of mince, and inbetween was her now, flat like a boxers. I looked at her, tried not to stare, but she had the saddest eyes, you know? I wonder what she looked like before the ops; whether she thinks is was all such a good use of money now.....

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