That Airport Again

Our friends and neighbours, Paul and Liz, were due back into good ol’ Luton airport today on easyJet flight 2224 from Alicante. You-know-who was off to pick them up and they had accepted my invitation to eat with me in the evening. Brave people, but you really don’t want to worry about shopping and cooking after a tiring journey home, do you?

So, after dragging myself out of the pit at Steve Rosemary’s following yesterday night’s revelry, and after two cups of Steve’s invigorating cappuccino, I drove home via Waitrose to get some supplies. Shopping there on a Sunday is quiet in a civilized sort of way. The downside is that the shelves are sometimes not well stocked. Such was the case today: no tarragon, no free range chickens, no substitute guinea-fowl – what’s a chap to do? At least there were some free range chicken legs so chicken tagine it is.

Quite how a two hour flight from Spain contrives to arrive 25 minutes early is completely beyond me but arrive 25 minutes early it did. Fortunately, I had checked the expected time online and managed to avoid any embarrassment. Paul phoned me when they had their bags and I left my handy-dandy nearby waiting spot to get them. What bedlam! True to form there was a terrible queue of traffic trying to get into the 10-minute drop-off and pick-up parking area. At least exiting was quick. I really don’t know why that nice idea proves so troublesome.

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