Notes on London City Airport

First of all, I would like to apologize to Road and March for using there comment space for my rantings. You see, I was stuck in London City Airport tonight when my flight back to Dublin was delayed for 2 hours, and all I had to amuse myself was a book of short stories and a public internet drop which took credit cards. The problem was the place was packed and there were barely any seats. The coffee docks were over-crowded, the bar was 2 persons deep. I read stories and I read your blogs. It was great! Thanks!

I was a frustrated young woman today, waiting at London City Airport. I thought I was going to get off lightly this trip - get in , get out, short and sweet - no screwing around with the central line to the eastern line to Paddington station and onto Heathrow. Simple, right? A cab to the airport and then home. The problem is there was a delay and this airport is useless for shopping. There is absolutely nothing to do. It is geared at the business traveller so usually all you see are men in the same suit reading newspapers and taking up all the seats but it was even worse because France had just tied with Switzerland in their first world cup game and they were pissed! I guess they were supposed to slaughter them.

This brings me to Cultural Stereotype #1 - the Angry Frenchman

Mad french guys are hysterical. They fold their arms and get all huffy and start blowing air out of the sides of their mouths. Then they start talking to each other quickly and gesticulating at the TV even though the game has long since been over. They were swarming, yes, swarming is the right word, all over the place as I was trying to pay for a £2.10 cup of coffee with my Amex because I only had euros left. Nightmare.

I can't even say that I had a great day in London, which I am convinced is an oxymoronic proposition. I am there just about every week and I can say, with conviction, that London is not a fun town. All the nonsense of a big city with none of the magic. Without Road flirting with the boys carrying chandeliers or JPD spitting at the statue of Oliver Cromwell at the House of Parliament, London is no craic at all! So my busy, no craic work day just added insult to injury that I was cooling my heels with the aforementioned angry French dudes and the tired, overheating Irish guys, which, ta da, brings me to...

Cultural stereotype #2 - Irish men do not look good in suits

Let me caveat this. They sometimes do and don't get me wrong, when JPD puts on his suit (the one that we bought which had to be for weddings AND funerals because he "wasn't getting two") he looks great but if it has to be worn for longer than the length of a typical mass, is starts getting ugly. Even the best dressed of them begins to look like rejects from Good Will. Last wedding we went to, he actually lost the brand new jacket of the new suit because God forbid he wore it for a nano-second longer than what was absolutely the bare minimum time that he had to wear it to be considered polite and when we frantically went around the hall to get it back, we found it in a pile of about a dozen others from guys who had done the same thing. There is no chance of a young Irish man getting caught on the cover of GQ. I think it used to be different - there are some very natty dressers amongst the older crowd - just another sign that everything is going to hell.

When I got home, 2 hours late, at 10:30, twilight had just set in, the street lights had just come on and Fergus was so happy to see me, you would have thought it was 18 days and not 18 hours since I saw him last. That's a great feeling - must be like that to have a kid but without worrying about the cost of college tuition in 18 years.



By the way, check this out. There is an international bloggers day. Go figure.