I'm sitting in Gatwick airport, waiting for my flight to Dublin which has been delayed by three hours. With luck, I should arrive back in Dublin by a-quarter-past one.
I left for London at 10:50 in the morning on Saturday with my friend Conall. Conall was moving to London and I offered to join him for the road trip. We got the ferry over from Dublin Port to Holyhead.
On the ferry over, I did notice something that drove me nuts. One could upgrade one's ticket to a “Club Class” ticket for 15 euro. For this, you got slightly nicer seats and a cup of tea; but the main benefit was the opportunity to pay more money for better food.
Food choice was segregated by class. Classist bastards!
The scenery on the way through Wales was stunning, but I forgot my camera so unfortunately I don't have any pictures.
We travelled from Holyhead, down through Wales, and into England. On the way, we saw a sign for Oulton Park and headed in, catching a bit of a race, which was cool.
We hit central London at about half-eight at night. Traffic was a nightmare, and we didn't quite know where we were going. Conall, worn out by the long drive, started to literally go blind with a dull rage as his vision narrowed to a tunnel. Thankfully, we managed to find his accommodations before he descended into a babbling madness or “the elves” (his words) took over.
On Sunday, we headed out to Brands Hatch to watch the first ever A1 Grand Prix. I watched part of the feature race from the hospitality lounge of the Irish team, and even managed to head down to the Irish garage at the pits (and saw the Irish car wheeled in just feet from me).
It's a about what happened to our team. Michael Devaney was hit on the third corner of the first lap of the feature race (after impressively climbing from tenth to fifth) and was knocked out of the race. When we got to the Irish team's office, someone from Sky Sports walked in to ask Michael for an interview, saying that he “must seem like the Grim Reaper at times like this”. Michael didn't seem to mind.
I won't forget seeing the car from the Lebanon roll in the air less than twenty metres from me. That was unreal. You can find out more about the race at the MotorSport Vision news page.
I got some work done today, and headed into London for some Starbucks, the “Help: A Day in the Life” album, mass pigeon assault (forty plus of the bastards), a goodbye and the train to Gatwick.
And just to prove that I can't escape the nutters no matter where I go, while Conall and I ran for the bus to Victoria station, a man on a bike with a bandana covering most of his face roared at us: “Do we have some nutters here? Would you like a bullet up the Khyber?”
What a pleasant fellow.
Well, it turns out that now I am attracting weirdos via the phone. I just got a call on the landline. I answered the phone.
The line seems dead, but I keep checking.
Hi, who's this?
Christine, have you picked up the phone?
Sorry, who's this?
They then hang up. Those are actual quotes people. For the next four weeks I reckon I'll still hear What number?, What number? rattling around my head.
On Tuesday, after my appointment at the osteopath, I decided to grab myself a chicken teryaki roll from Subway. These things are gorgeous, and apparently not that bad for you either.
So I pop into the one on the Quays, and out of the corner of my eye I spot the shitbags guy. I turn towards the counter, and as I place my order I notice that the woman behind the counter is hot.
She begins to make the roll, and I automatically start flirting a little with her. She seems to like the attention, slight as it is.
I feel a presence to my right.
That looks like a nice roll.
It's a great roll.
I look back towards the woman again, and smile.
It's so hard to be a gentleman these days.
I'm sorry, I don't know what you mean.
It's so hard to be a gentleman these days.
Great explanation there, sir. The woman behind the counter is putting the finishing touches to my roll.
How much is that roll?
Six - six euro.
The woman hands me the roll, I hand her the cash, and before we can even complete the transaction, in jumps the philosopher-king and asks for the same roll.
Highlight of the week? I saw a badger. Badgers look fucking cool.
On Saturday I dropped a three-seater sofa onto my head. On Monday, I went for an aggressive cycle, which somehow aggravated my neck. I am now walking slowly, with reduced sensation on the left of my face.
Great posture though. If this sticks, I might take up robot impersonation for a living.
I have so many windows open I haven't even bothered counting... and it's even worse than it looks. Those four Safari windows and eight Firefox windows are full of tabs, and between them have around two hundred web pages open. I don't want to close any of them in case I lose them in the mess that is my bookmarks folder.
All I can say is: I'm glad I have a gig of RAM :)
If you look closely, you'll see the Assemblies of God Ireland placeholder page, that went up tonight.
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