The Golden Palm

Where else could it be but Dubai airport?

We had a pleasant flight from Chennai to Dubai, but on the longer one we got the extra leg room seats next to the toilets. As it was an airbus and we were in the middle, people kept cutting across our feet to get to the other side of the plane. This was annoying. I’m glad we didn’t pay extra for being kept awake in this way.

In the morning, at Gatwick, we said our goodbyes again to the straggling remains of our party, and caught the train to Farringdon, and changed, and caught the tube to Paddington, and then found most of the trains had been cancelled. Pandemonium reigned. Engineering works had overrun, and someone had suicided at or near Didcot. Tsunamis of people with luggage surged forwards every time a train was finally announced.

We did eventually get a train to Swindon, and another to Stroud, and arrived in some ferociously bad weather. Wind and rain and cold. Steve met us with umbrellas, and took us home, where he turned the heating on. We had salad for supper .

Indie the cat seems happy to see me and is snuggling again. She is not interested in my adventures, despite her being a Bombay.

I will catch up with the missed days.