Saturday, 5 September 2015

This is possibly one of the less pretty bits.

I have a dislike-hate (rather than love-hate) relationship with Stanstead airport, even though I like where it takes me. I've just spent 30 min trying to find a drinking fountain or tap to fill our water bottles post security. :-(
The whole UK travel thing is curious because, even though we're not really badly treated compared to say, rail travel, it *feels* terrible. No amount of sparkly marble floors and champagne bars makes it seem better.
Maybe it's the proximity if so much un-churched humanity, though I struggle not to behave like I'm un-churched at times too. It *should* be a great opportunity to witness (not Venice as spellcheck would like) and self a sacrifice a bit, but it's far more instinctive to try to take a good place and then feel sorry for those who did badly.
People watching at airports us interesting though, and we have the full gamut from glamorous to 'cause for concern' here. On the way through duty free Johnny Drop was featured on a large video screen: bet he doesn't travel cattle-class. And even though flying really is a luxury activity, somehow it feels squalid. Or maybe that's just the effect people together create?

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