As the old adage says, 'Home is... where the WiFi connects automatically'.
You may be reassured to know that I am safely back in Plumstead, sitting at my desk, watching the local JWs hastily head to their hall just up the road as they do every Tuesday, or is it Wednesday, I still can't quite be sure. I'm typing to you from Pavilion. Yoga is to a pointy boat, what Pavilion is to the Barra / Banjul ferry.
The second leg of the homeward journey, where weary travellers had spent the intervening hours patiently awaiting their turn at the limited charging points, was very pleasant, mainly because I found myself sitting next to a new friend who I have no doubt is reading this blog. We actually chatted for the full three-and-a-half hours of the flight. I'm afraid I relayed most of my adventures verbally, so apologies Alison - much of the previous blog entries won't be news to you.
Lunch was infinitely preferable to the indeterminable part of an animal embalmed in a chunk of dry bread which I had been served for breakfast. I think Royal Air Maroc had purchased a new chicken, most probably with that huge wad of cash I had given them yesterday. I enjoyed a final proper Coke, which I won't drink again until I am next abroad.
I glided through immigration, using a trusty electronic gate situation which negates the need to even speak to anyone, which is a tiny bit sad, but speeds up the process I suppose.
Then it was baggage o'clock and I trundled off to the baggage hall with my two new friends, one of whom didn't have any baggage because Royal Air Maroc lost it on the way out two months ago and it now appears to be in China.
My trusty orange tortoise (who admittedly doesn't look that orange with her cover on) was lying unassumedly on the carousel; most other travellers found that their baggage had been suffocated by shrink-wrapped, environment-killing plastic, which was discombobulating as travellers weren't recognising their own luggage. I'm glad my trusty orange tortoise didn't get shrink-wrapped as I think she'd have suffocated. She's had quite a time these last few days with all these wild trips on top of minibuses and bush taxis and needs a good wash - now quite sure how I'll do that, but I'll sort it out somehow.
I bade farewell to my #PlaneFriends, my head buzzing from lack of sleep combined with a quirky Reggae version of multiple Ed Sheeran songs which I heard in The Gambia at various times, where Ed is busy reeee-writing the stars with a punchy Reggae beat going on; his song 'Perfect' also sounds quite unique with a Reggae beat, if you can imagine that.
I jumped onto the shuttle train - me, Ed's songs and my trusty orange tortoise - then onto the train to London Bridge, then a train to Plumstead, then onto a 177 bus. My timing was perfect as I hit the beginning of the rush hour, which displeased a handful of commuters, though they were most probably miserable anyway and mainly predictably attached to their devices. They should try commuting in a bush taxi.
So now it's time to pick up the threads and start ploughing through seven burgeoning inboxes of e-mails and a huge pile of post (which, at a quick first glance seems to contain confirmation of the renewal of my Girlguiding Trainer Qualification, plus a shiny new travel insurance policy - thanks, Aviva)
It's time to locate the clipboard of knowledge and my latest to-do list and start highlighting 'quick win' situations which can be nailed in an e-mail or two, then start planning training work for the next few months, six term plans using the girls' ideas, plus organise Guide camp, Rainbow sleepover and all sorts of other exciting projects.
A new microwave has been installed in the kitchen. It has a button which simply says 'chaos'. I like this.
If anyone reads this far (I wouldn't have) - thanks for sharing this adventure with me. If you've enjoyed it, tell someone about it and maybe they will enjoy it too. If you have a friend who might offer me a lucrative publishing deal, then definitely tell them about it. If you didn't enjoy it, then just accept my apologies and leave it at that.
I've experienced two new places, many different cultures, made numerous friends along the way, spoken plenty of French, laughed, cried, prayed, read and even relaxed a little. I go on an adventures for self-discovery; to learn, to grow, to be challenged, to think, to write, and just to be. I highly recommend it.
Until next time.
You may be reassured to know that I am safely back in Plumstead, sitting at my desk, watching the local JWs hastily head to their hall just up the road as they do every Tuesday, or is it Wednesday, I still can't quite be sure. I'm typing to you from Pavilion. Yoga is to a pointy boat, what Pavilion is to the Barra / Banjul ferry.
The second leg of the homeward journey, where weary travellers had spent the intervening hours patiently awaiting their turn at the limited charging points, was very pleasant, mainly because I found myself sitting next to a new friend who I have no doubt is reading this blog. We actually chatted for the full three-and-a-half hours of the flight. I'm afraid I relayed most of my adventures verbally, so apologies Alison - much of the previous blog entries won't be news to you.
Lunch was infinitely preferable to the indeterminable part of an animal embalmed in a chunk of dry bread which I had been served for breakfast. I think Royal Air Maroc had purchased a new chicken, most probably with that huge wad of cash I had given them yesterday. I enjoyed a final proper Coke, which I won't drink again until I am next abroad.
I glided through immigration, using a trusty electronic gate situation which negates the need to even speak to anyone, which is a tiny bit sad, but speeds up the process I suppose.
Then it was baggage o'clock and I trundled off to the baggage hall with my two new friends, one of whom didn't have any baggage because Royal Air Maroc lost it on the way out two months ago and it now appears to be in China.
My trusty orange tortoise (who admittedly doesn't look that orange with her cover on) was lying unassumedly on the carousel; most other travellers found that their baggage had been suffocated by shrink-wrapped, environment-killing plastic, which was discombobulating as travellers weren't recognising their own luggage. I'm glad my trusty orange tortoise didn't get shrink-wrapped as I think she'd have suffocated. She's had quite a time these last few days with all these wild trips on top of minibuses and bush taxis and needs a good wash - now quite sure how I'll do that, but I'll sort it out somehow.
I bade farewell to my #PlaneFriends, my head buzzing from lack of sleep combined with a quirky Reggae version of multiple Ed Sheeran songs which I heard in The Gambia at various times, where Ed is busy reeee-writing the stars with a punchy Reggae beat going on; his song 'Perfect' also sounds quite unique with a Reggae beat, if you can imagine that.
I jumped onto the shuttle train - me, Ed's songs and my trusty orange tortoise - then onto the train to London Bridge, then a train to Plumstead, then onto a 177 bus. My timing was perfect as I hit the beginning of the rush hour, which displeased a handful of commuters, though they were most probably miserable anyway and mainly predictably attached to their devices. They should try commuting in a bush taxi.
So now it's time to pick up the threads and start ploughing through seven burgeoning inboxes of e-mails and a huge pile of post (which, at a quick first glance seems to contain confirmation of the renewal of my Girlguiding Trainer Qualification, plus a shiny new travel insurance policy - thanks, Aviva)
It's time to locate the clipboard of knowledge and my latest to-do list and start highlighting 'quick win' situations which can be nailed in an e-mail or two, then start planning training work for the next few months, six term plans using the girls' ideas, plus organise Guide camp, Rainbow sleepover and all sorts of other exciting projects.
A new microwave has been installed in the kitchen. It has a button which simply says 'chaos'. I like this.
If anyone reads this far (I wouldn't have) - thanks for sharing this adventure with me. If you've enjoyed it, tell someone about it and maybe they will enjoy it too. If you have a friend who might offer me a lucrative publishing deal, then definitely tell them about it. If you didn't enjoy it, then just accept my apologies and leave it at that.
I've experienced two new places, many different cultures, made numerous friends along the way, spoken plenty of French, laughed, cried, prayed, read and even relaxed a little. I go on an adventures for self-discovery; to learn, to grow, to be challenged, to think, to write, and just to be. I highly recommend it.
Until next time.
No comments:
Post a Comment