In which I have opinions… about airports, flights, and holidays. I also drink gin.

I hate hanging around in airports; waiting in airports. It’s not that I find it stressful like a lot of folks do. I’m not tense or uncertain or claustrophobic. None of that. It’s just that waiting in airports is so BORING. I mean there’s just so little to do that you’re not about to spend hours doing on an airplane. OK, sure, in one case you’re free to wander as much as you like, while in the other you’re strapped into a cramped seat inside an oversized cigar tube hurtling through the air just below mach one, 100% percent reliant on physics and the propulsive power that comes from burning long-dead dinosaurs. But at least that’s exciting! Airports are not. Boring!

Prologue

I’m off back to Scotland for a week’s holiday. I’m not supposed to be, but that’s really not the kind of thing that stops me. Why am i not supposed to be? Well, it’s a work thing. We’ve got this huge new science facility coming online for Fall Term, and the summer is the final sprint. It’s the time when the construction company has to make up for all the inevitable delays that have stacked up over the course of several years. It’s also the time when our department have to get in there and bring the IT related functionality online. ‘Cause if that stuff don’t work come Fall Term, ain’t no-one gonna look back at the original delays and shrug it off. Nope. It’ll be on us.

So, with that realization firmly in mind, the plan was no vacation time this summer. Buuuuuuut…

There’s this whole 4th of July holiday thing. It’s on a Thursday this year. Almost no-one is going to want to come to work on Friday, and then we’re at the weekend. So that’s four days. The carefully crafted “Owners Schedule” had nothing specifically for me on the three days after the weekend (guess who helped craft the Owners Schedule), making seven days. Hey, that’s a week. I can work that.

So, yeah, holiday!

Okay, there were other circumstances that upped the priority. There was some family medical stuff earlier this year that had me antsy to get back. ’nuff said there. Also, some good friends from the US are making their first trip to Scotland starting this weekend. I’d always hoped to be there to welcome them (and, you know, maybe crash a little), so that timing also works out particularly well.

There is one other thing. I decided several years ago that I really wanted… no, really needed to get back to Scotland once a year. My heritage is important to me, and it’s good for my mental health. I’ll talk more about that in a later post. Of course, I’d love it if my ladies could join me every year, but sadly that’s not financially viable. So we decided on a shorter solo trip for me on odd numbered years, and a longer full family trip on even numbered years. So this actually keeps to that arrangement.

Therefore, despite not technically being allowed to take holiday this summer, this all means that I have studiously taken holiday this summer.

Ok, what the hell was I originally talking about..?

Ah yes, dinosaurs.

__________________

Meanwhile, back in the airport.. Actually, sod that. Boring.

<FFW>

Wheeeeee! I love take off.It’s nuts, crazy, intense, and the best part of the flight (except, perhaps, landing, but that comes later). Those dinosaurs pack a helluva punch. I mean, you hear the engines fire up to get the plane moving away from the gate. Then there’s the occasional burst of high intensity as the pilot guns it to peg it across a runway before a 767 decides it needs to use it to land or something. But it’s only when the engines are cranked to get this gigantic physics experiment off the ground (hah, geddit!?) that you realize how ridiculously powerful these two engines really are.

0-to-200 in, well, quite a bit I suppose. (It ain’t six seconds, but come on, we all know how much we packed into the overheads. This thing is heavy!) And depending on the size of the plane, it can feel like an eternity. If you look catefully, you might be able to spot the nervous passengers; the ones who lift themselves out of their seats, to lighten the load, trying to help, just in case. Not gonna work, people. Because physics! If it ain’t gonna take off, there’s exactly bupkis you can do about it. Enjoy the ride, the abrupt abort, or the raging fireball, whatever the hell happens! Bwaaaahahahaaa!

You know, I’m a little surprised that they still let on planes. Maybe it’s because I’ve learned to keep those kind of thoughts to myself. Mind you, I’d have thought that the maniacal grin and cackling would cause enough concern in itself.

OK, that’s enough for now. I’ve got a book to read and lines to learn. I will therefore probably watch a film. True, the selection used to be a lot better on Iceland Air flights, but they have The Martian and Ocean’s 13, so I’m good for 264 minutes out of the remaining 252.

Umm, wait…

Addendum

Buy one gin and tonic and get the second 40% off? Well that was an easy upsell. The drinks menu offers a selection of gins, and lists the botanicals in each one. Cool. Ok, let’s try 64 Reykjavik Gin (juniper, angelica, blueberries, rhubarb, crowberries, caraway, arctic thyme) aaaand Bertha’s Revenge Milk Gin (juniper, coriander, lemon, lime, orris root, orange, grapefruit, sweet orange, cinnamon, elderflower, cardamom, almond, licorice).

Oh, they’re tasty. I’m sure the young lady opposite me is judging me. Then I confused her by sipping, looking thoughtful, and swipe-typing contemplatively. For the record, swipe-typing contemplatively is both hard to do and a pain in the bottom to swipe-type.

Okay, that really is all for now. Today is now tomorrow, which is a different post.