Leaving on a jet plane 

So. Ian’s been on New York on business. I’ve been in London in the dreadful heat. Nothing quite like a heatwave in London in August. We just aren’t equipped. Not in our houses our shops or on public transport.  I’m not averse to a bit of hot and sweaty but not on the underground. The overground is better. Great air con. But I only go 3 stops. 

Ian leaves New York tomorrow and I’m on  the start of my journey to Vancouver to meet up with him for a bit of a holiday. Well if I get to the airport. Bank holiday Friday in a cab where the driver hasn’t spoken for 40 mins. No talkee. No tippee. Rule no 1. I don’t want to know yr life story. But a hello or even a grunt wouldn’t go amiss. Just to let me know your human. 

The M4 is a bit like a carpark. Hot. Miserable. A Mass of grumpy drivers.  But looks like I’m doing my usual thing of arriving early. I’ve checked in. Booked my seat but don’t like that the boarding pass is on my phone. I am old fashioned and like a bit of paper that I can wave about when boarding. But I don’t. I also won’t have a stomach if this driver doesn’t stop braking sharply. I wonder if he will talk if I am actually sick. 

So. There will be photos. I hope lots. So I can try out my new camera. The one Ian said I didn’t need. But the one I wanted. And bought. Ian is the king of planning holidays. Be they long weekends or longer breaks. Hopefully this one will not be any different. Bears and whales are on the menu. Not the eating menu of course that would be just wrong on every level. But on a tourist menu. In a rain forest. On Vancouver island. I just hope I’m not on theirs. I’ve practiced running or just playing dead. A bit like the cab driver. Lifeless. 

 I may survive the flight in a seaplane. People have been winding me up. ‘ have you ever been in a seaplane’ no. Ooh. They reply. Let’s  see if I can do it Without being sick or needing clean pants. Of which I have plenty. As my mother always said – make sure you have clean pants on in case you get knocked down. Mother i would reply. “Don’t worry. If I get knocked down they won’t be clean” getting knocked down won’t  be the only accident. 

But first I need to get to the airport. I can see planes. Queuing above us on the motorway. Hopefully later that will be me. We are now within spitting distance of the terminal. One hour later and still no grunt from the cab man. 

I’ll let you know when I get to the other side. It will be a long trip. Bit like this cab journey really. 

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