On Monday I had a meeting in Edinburgh so flew up. At the time I briefly reflected on how splendid it was it be able to go so far so quickly. Of course this was a pure illusion, induced by the minute size of Britain relative to the sodding great ball of on which it sits. Presumably people marvelled at the horse and cart in its day, and it was probably a jolly fine way of getting about if the limit of your travel plans was the next village.
When you need to go to Auckland the jet engine becomes about as much use as a chocolate teapot. We need, at the absolute minimum, ballistic flights via space but preferably matter transporters. Why the engineers aren’t busy sorting this out rather than concentrating on plasma TV’s bigger than the average house is a complete mystery.
I am in Kuala Lumpur and a tad grumpy. At least the engines, pathetically inefficient as they are , have kept working and we are neither late nor dead.
I had forgotten about the rather silly meal game they play on this route. Because we are heading east, and therefore travelling into the future, the days are greatly accelerated meaning that they have to try and force feed you to get in the required 3 square ones. On the way home the reverse applies and you get an endless succession of the SAME meal because it is awways the same time of day. Coming home last year I had 3 consecutive breakfasts.
I still have another 7 hour jaunt to Melbourne before the final push to NZ. Stupid useless jet engines.