Arrived safe and sound and in good order what feels like ages ago. We've been on the go since I left work and this is my first free moment since then. So much has happened in that time that I can't quite take it in. I've got a lot of writing to do so I'll break it up in handy bitesize bits for my readers (if I have any). I've found it good taking notes on events, it is surprising the things that you forget.
I've had many requests for things to take back home to people, fridge magnets, postcards, fags, furry things and an Uzi. I'm not quite sure that he realizes the significance of his request, but if he gives me a ride on his Harley then I'll see what I can turn up for you mate.
Back to the Thursday 15th. I returned home from work to a cat free house, which is a very strange experience. Red and Blue have gone to a cattery and are sharing a run together. Despite the fact that they are sisters they are completely independent so they'll either come back soul mates or have bald patches all over them.
I took a cab to the meeting point to meet the squad, they all seem like a nice bunch of lads and the female physio will go down very well me thinks.
Somehow I managed to get stiffed though. They found out that I count beans and put me in charge of the fines money for the end of tour piss up.
One of the blokes turned up with worst suitcase I have ever seen. It was floral, absolutely hideous.
'What the hell's that McGowan?',
'I know, my wife packed it' he said weighing it. 'I thinks she's still inside it.'
'It's not the weight mate, it's the colour. The last time I saw material like that was on a pair of curtains. The curtains then closed and burnt my Gran.'
It turns out our coach had been booked for 05.00 and not 17.00. Not surprisingly the coach driver turned up at 5 in the morning and was greeted by absolutely no one. Even less surprisingly the driver had run out of tacograph hours by 17.00 so we had to get 25 of us, each with 30kg cases into 2 18 seater minibuses. Now that is what I call bonding.
The minibus took us to Terminal 3, we got the tin opener out and disembarked. Now you've got to remember that I'm really a hanger on on this tour. I booked my flight and accomodation separately and when I looked at the departure screen I couldn't see my flight number on the board. The team were flying Virgin, I'm going South African Airways. As it turns out all SAA flights go from Terminal 1. So there I was trekking across Heathrow airport, realizing the first reason that you give yourself 3 hours to check in.
Checked in alright and then had my first experience of English Airport security since Sept 11. They obviously had a new toy to play with. It was like something out of Total Recall. It was very new and very shiny and very very slow. After about 30 minutes of mucking around, they decided to revert to the good old method of a metal detector and a decent frisk. They then asked to check the souls of my shoes. I'm not sure what made me look suspicious, prehaps they knew that it was this very morning that I shaved of my big bushy billy broo styly beard. It's at time like this that I wish I had pushchair. So theres the second reason to give 3 hours to check in.
The third reason is the duty free. I haven't been shopping since September so I fancied a spend up. I bought myself a portable CD player so at least I can now get my fix of RHCP, Eminem and Les Mis in Durban. I also bought a 128 mb camera card so I can bore you guys rigid with photos. I then got a pair of Timberlands for my bush hike. I didn't want to stretch to the $300 pair of Oakley shades that I fancied. I think thats the Bean counter in me.
