It has been an age since I said hello – though perhaps no one even noticed?????
At Dublin Airport, I realized that I would sleep with any of the men there, as long as they talked to me the entire time. Readers, that statement may shock you – especially the guys who are nice enough to read my scribbles on here, but you would feel the same way if you heard those pretty Irish accents.
I picked the Chicken Korma – and I have to say that it was probably the best curry I’ve had in years. But the most wonderful part of dinner was that I got to spend it with my beautiful Auntie Janet (who has no bobble heads like Auntie Doreen), my cousins Steve & Lindsey (Janet’s kids), and their respective families.
Take it from me, when flying any long haul, the seats in business class are well worth the upgrade. Instead of sitting in a row of uncomfortable people, feeling like a bratwurst in a packet of hotdogs, I got to stretch out languidly, curl into a horizontal fetal position and cover myself with a real blanket. And then I promptly passed into a drug induced sleep for about two hours.
When I was a kid, and our family took a road trip, my dad would get us up at four o’clock in the morning so we could get on the road bright and early. We’d be so excited….mum would get the thermos full of hot, sweet tea, and we’d down our cereal and toast in record time. The car would have been packed the night before, and off we’d set with our favourite toy, a book to read in the car, and the ever-present scent of egg sandwiches assaulting our noses and making us salivate. We’d feel like we were on a grand adventure, and we were always so thrilled to arrive at our destination four hours later. That’s right, FOUR hours later. By British standards, that was considered to be a long drive, worthy of all the food consumed en-route. Any journey longer than that would require a stop-over at a B&B.