Stet by Ria Bacon

Wednesday, October 26, 2005

Schiphol

We arrived at sunrise in a two-car convoy from the northern provinces. Laden with a multitude of luggage, we bore down on terminal two and yea there we wept when we saw the mighty snaking queue at British Airways. And so it was that fellow traveller smote fellow traveller and appendages were crushed under juggernaut trolleys. Yea verily it was the final call.

Well, you get the picture. Two hundred school-term discount seniors flying back to the UK after a debauched weekend in Amsterdam ("mayonnaise with chips! I ask you!!"). The disgruntled muttering was quite audible, but not loud enough to be taken seriously, as the BA staff shunted through late arrivals for flights leaving in 15 minutes.

BA should run a new marketing campaign: hey fluffy girl and stoner dude! Check in one hour before departure?! Yeah riiight! Party hearty, crash and burn! When you finally drag your ass off the floor and stagger into the airport, we'll be there to push you to the front of the queue like you're pimp royale. BA: doesn't have to mean bugger all.

However, Mr B hadn't forgotten his ninja queue-jump technique from living in Rome for three years. After carefully observing the atypical fluid dynamics of the single snake queue, he noticed the feed-in current petered out by the fourth counter. So we simply circumvented the whole shebang and walked straight up to the furthest desk. We'd carefully weighed each of our TEN pieces of luggage, so smiled smugly when the total came out at only two kilos over. Too bad it wasn't Ryanair and their sneaky 15 kg limit. Revenge would have been sweet.

Next instalment: sick bags over Montego Bay (sorry)

Wilma welcome yu wit a splash

Just checking in briefly. Gotta dash and see more houses for rent. Kids' first day at school, first time in uniform. Mighty cute.

Been stranded at the airport, flooded out of our hotel, bamboozled by real estate agents, but tings are lookin better already.

It's stopped raining.

More later ...

Tuesday, October 11, 2005

We zijn d'r bijna, we zijn d'r bijna

Maar nog niet helemaal!

Altogether now ...

It's a Dutch thing.

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The clock's ticking, in three days we'll be flying off to Funky Kingston.

Oh, but we haven't got any tickets.

It was hard enough getting a booking through the office in Jamaica. Frantic emails shot across the Atlantic:
"A BA traveller class counts as an economy seat!"
"You want us to do a stopover in New York? We have to go from JFK to Newark in the middle of the night?!"
"My sista can get you seats in the bulkhead if you fly Air Jamaica."
Guess who we're flying with.

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The time in the Netherlands has gone very fast. The weather has been uncannily glorious, with hot, sunny days and cerulean autumn skies.

Candyfloss sunset

One of my biggest regrets is that I didn't attend the major social event of the season.

Potato 2005

The slogan for this year's conference was "Continuing the success of Potato 2000".

I have a proposal for the slogan in 2010. It needs a little more research, which will be reflected in my fee ...


I've drafted a stack of insightful and witty posts over the last weeks, but what with one thing and another and another and another, did I mention I was outside IKEA when they opened the doors this morning. So you'll forgive me, I'm sure, if I've been a tad tardy. Just be patient and check in again soon once I'm settled in Jamaica. I will even satisfy the request for more great b&w photos from Italy. Soon come!


Tot ziens, amigos!