In a world where a blog is created every second does the world really need another blog? Well, it's got one.
An irregular set of postings, weaving an intricate pattern around a diverse set of subjects. Comment on culture, technology, politics and the occasional rant about life.
Alan ... in Belfast, Northern Ireland
Friday, October 09, 2009
Où sont mes bagages?
The lights in the distance belong to a luggage truck coming back to pick up the bags strewn up the road inside Stansted Airport.
I remember standing in Heathrow airport with the Coke Shy Hero watching something very similar a lot of years ago. When the baggage truck did come along, the driver got out, moved the bags from the middle of the road to the edge, and then drove on. It took a long time for the bags to be collected.
At one stage the wee man in the white van from Gatwick knew the way to my house in Ealing so well, we were on first name terms.
It got to the point where he'd knock the door, and say "Morning again. I have here wot looks like an ISDN Coobe, a ras'd laptop, a mini disc recorder and a lot of Barbie-themed presents for your little girl..."
2 comments:
I remember standing in Heathrow airport with the Coke Shy Hero watching something very similar a lot of years ago. When the baggage truck did come along, the driver got out, moved the bags from the middle of the road to the edge, and then drove on.
It took a long time for the bags to be collected.
At one stage the wee man in the white van from Gatwick knew the way to my house in Ealing so well, we were on first name terms.
It got to the point where he'd knock the door, and say "Morning again. I have here wot looks like an ISDN Coobe, a ras'd laptop, a mini disc recorder and a lot of Barbie-themed presents for your little girl..."
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