The Madrid to Heathrow flight has touched down and I listen
to the English couple beside me as the plane taxis to the Terminal. This is my first time in a native English
speaking country for 4 ½ months and I have to smile as I remember the British stoicism.
I am here overnight en-route to Oslo.
I try to translate from British
[attempt in italics]
"Well, that's a surprise, the flight is actually early. Wonders will never cease. Wish the others had been like that." [Great - look at that. We're early.]
"Yes, the trip wasn't a total disaster. Just the one delay that meant we didn't get to spend the extra hour in the park bird watching. Shame that." [Two weeks of doing what we enjoy and with one minor hiccup. Great holiday!]
As I walk from the station to my friends Wayne and Sharron's I notice that hard set look on the faces of many of those who have finished their working day and begin the journey homeward. It's somewhere between a gritty determination and a resigned stoicism - the look that some runners have who are the exception to the term "fun run".
Wayne and Sharron brighten up the evening. We head out for dinner. They are recent arrivals in this fine city and will make it their home for the next few years. We have much to talk about and update on. This is a team who are great friend's of my brother and whom I have *made the very presumptive move of adopting as friends also...interesting and nice how that happens with siblings friends over the years.
It's not too early a start next morning - a brief walk to the station then off to Stanstead -bound for Oslo.
I order lunch at the airport. It arrives .
“Sorry sir,here’s your lunch."
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