The long journey

And so it starts. A long hop to Hong Kong followed by a slightly shorter hop to Brisbane. I made sure I had some carbs before leaving Heathrow in an attempt to sleep. Nothing else ever works so my fingers are crossed.

First thing this morning I headed down to the gym for the last time in a few weeks. It was a good workout made that little bit harder by the appearance of Laurel and Hardy.

Laurel and Hardy are two guys who obviously know each other outside the gym and are frequently overheard bagging mutual acquaintances. While that’s very interesting (sometimes) they are more entertaining with the noises they make on the equipment.

It’s not just grunting and puffing. They both sound like they’re descending into Mount Doom with nothing but a pair of gym shorts and a damp towel. Of course, it’s always important to know where your towel is but the noises are really not necessary.

The really annoying thing about this pair is how they hog the machines. It never really bothers me because they use different stuff but I can see it grates with other people.

But then, the truly annoyerating thing is how they leave the locker doors open. It seriously makes me want to stick their heads inside and slam the door against their ears a fair few times. Obviously I don’t though if I was Reggie Perrin it would happen.

But that was such a small part of my day that I just ignored it. More importantly I had to bath Freya then make some mayonnaise.

Both of these tasks were accomplished in the minimum time required and then I thought I should pack. Then Dave and the guy who made the ceiling lantern arrived to discuss our leak.

They inspected it thoroughly then came up with an idea. As Occam dictates, they decided to try the easiest solution first…or, rather, they’re going to. The lantern guy will be in touch, the lantern guy said.

Then my taxi turned up.

And all my connections were smooth as the proverbial and I found myself at the various points of my journey with no problems at all.

It does make for a rather dull blog post but at least there were no palpitations.

Eventually I found myself at Heathrow terminal 3 where I checked in, went through security and adjourned to Yo Sushi for a spot of lunch…and the aforementioned carbs.

Eventually my gate was called and I walked the 428 miles to it and waited the usual ten minutes before heading for the plane.

I have to say, it’s all very efficient. Unlike the flights to Las Vegas and New York which sort of resembled a queue in Beijing. It was a lot more civilised heading for Hong Kong. Strangely.

And so I took my seat, watched some Netflix downloads on my phone (I actually finished the often bizarre but generally entertaining South Korean show, Black), ate chicken, drank wine and tried to sleep. Oh, and I chilled to some essential Clapton.

Next stop, China.

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