As the inevitable odour of several hundred other people's farts waft past my 'very' cramped window seat, I'm finally afforded a glimpse between the clouds of what will be the 50th country I have ever visited, Japan. As it stands at the moment, the fact that I have got this far seems nothing short of miraculous and if you can stand it then I'll talk you through the journey in more detail.
The journey started at 06:30 the day after Remembrance Day 2009 when my driver and I left Gorse Covert and drove straight into one of the worst traffic jams I have ever seen. Even though it only lasted an hour, the stress was felt by all parties (including those on the phone but after some nifty weaving into the fast lane, the end was finally in sight. Once When we finally go to the airport I was free to enjoy a full English breakfast with my Chauffeur who had not only endured the strain of the journey but who also picked up the tab. Cheers Dad :-)
Things weren't set to get any better as I overheard the girl on the desk mention to another customer that bad weather in Frankfurt was disrupting flights. Other than that, check-in was straightforward (having already confirmed my details online and received a series of black dots on my iPhone) and I passed through a very quiet security area. Next I was guided into the recently remodelled T1 concourse. It's not bad actually although its extremely difficult to work out which part of the old concourse you are now in. The idea is to sweep you through duty free (of course), past several varied but overpriced shops and onto the food hall before ending up at your gate and therefore your plane. I didn't have much time or interest in shopping but I wanted to get a gift for Chisato's Mum for picking me up as well as a little something for Daiki. Finally I had to get to the gate to see what the bad weather in Frankfurt meant for my journey.
At this point I received a call from my friend Phil who confirmed that Christmas beers in Brussels were finally on and so it looked as though my next port of call after Japan would be Belgium. Once aboard the plane I thought I might be there a lot sooner as we were told we were to be delayed by up to 1 hour thus jeopardising my transfer! The gentleman to my right (an ex-Army type in a 3 piece suit who was heading for Berlin) expressed concern at my predicament but reminded me that the matter was entirely out of my hands and that it was best to wait for more news. Some false hope dawned as we left the gate only to park further up the apron whilst we waited for permission to fly to Germany (It wasn't like that in the 40s)!
After an agonising 50 minutes or so we set off and banked left over the Lovell telescope and South East towards the fatherland. Breakfast comprised of half a sandwich made from soda bread and some reformed ham-esque material which reminded me of how much fun flying isn't. As we started our descent, the German pilot relayed the bad news to those expecting an onward connection, 5 flights in all had been missed by the delay but mine was not one of them! The poor souls who were heading for Budapest would expect to remain at Frankfurt airport for 9 hours until their next flight but it seemed that I was in luck providing I could get to my gate quickly in what is an enormous airport!
At last I could breathe a sigh of relief as not only was my gate nearby, the plane was 30 minutes late and so they hadn't even started boarding. I used the time to procure a Snickers and an Economist before boarding the first Boeing 747 I'd ever been on. Regrettably my home for the next 12 hours or so was to be a very cramped and somewhat ageing Jumbo with poor legroom and no personal entertainment. C'est la vie!
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