So starts another ‘blog’! What started as a way to keep my mum in the loop when we travelled to Japan, has snowballed into a travel tradition. Initally I did have feelings that perhaps it was all a tad self indulgent, but as time has gone by it is something that makes me very happy, and the positivity that people have shared with me, underlines the fact that it brings a little joy into their lives too! Albeit many from the sharing of some of the catastrophes and scrapes we tend to get involved in. Well…… they make a good story!
The journey has started, staggered over several days. Starting in Scarborough, followed by Salford, then Runcorn and finally Manchester Airport. In the true spirit of our jaunts, we have arrived hours and hours too early. But this enures that any evantuality is disappated and we are here in the departure lounge, in one piece and relaxed.
On route I caught a glimpse of my hair and in a moment of vanity decided I needed it cutting urgently, as it looked a bit like a white Brillo pad, with a similar texture. So between our various stops I found a hairdresser that could fit me in. I certainly was a fish out of water there, that said I dd get a great hair cut.
Their website was strewn with photos of their talents, which expanded into ‘cosmetic’ procedures, big lips and bigger eyebrows!
It was a bit of an odd experience. I thought I was seeing things but I certainly wasn’t. She would stop cutting for a moment, stand back, brush her hair, and then start brushing mine with the same brush! Then she did the same with the comb. She had got extensions the previous week, and I think that she was still in the thrall of how her hair looked. Again and again, she would look wistfully in the mirror, brushing and combing her hair, while regaling me with her tales of her recent trip to Amsterdam. Punctuating her tales, realising I was still there, with a cheery, ‘you ok babe.’ It cost ten pound – so despite the obvious health issues, it was at least cheap.
Stayed at my Mum’s house the night before, made a big packed lunch. Why did you make so many sandwiches, exclaimed Pete…..well…because we had barely left my mum’s house before Pete was making a substantial dint in it!
I love airport lounges, a sense of expectations of good times ahead. Glitzy shops and the opportunity to lather myself with several different perfumes.
Having arrived so early we decided to sit outside. Within minutes a three people had plonked themselves behind us. Two women and a man. No idea what the man, Tim and the woman, Angela, sounded like, as their friend (or perhaps she was a complete stranger) talked non-stop, loudly, without a break. Oh Tim she wailed, you can’t wear your Speedo’s when we are away, your arse looks like a ten year old boys! Borrow my knickers, they would be better for you. Angela, you can’t wear long dresses at night, get your legs out, get a mini dress or better still some little shorts from one of those designer shops.
Without a breath, she continued, as I chomped on my cheese and pickle sandwich. Lip flllers, thats what you want Angela, wouldn’t she look great Tim, not waiting for an answer before launching into another monlogue. Itemising all the things she had packed, false eyelashes, eyelash glue, on and on…
When we passed later, they were gone. Perhaps Angela and Tim had decided to run to the hills and not have a week with her in Greece.
Getting through was very quick. We are way too early but someone in the security let us through. Are you nervous she asked in a concerned manner. No, I just want to go to Duty Free and try as many perfumes as humanly possible, before inducing an asthma attack. Ah, her face seemed to say…. we have a bit of a nutter here. Go through, but it’s the Fast Track lane, nodding quickly, she said it’s fine. Either she was terriby kind or thought I was a bit special. Whatever, the quickest time through security, EVER!
Random Acts of Travelling 