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Made it to Munich
Nov. 6th, 2006 12:46 pmAnd now I am on a German keyboard with the characters in the wrong bloody place again. Grarr...
There were about 12 of us on the flight out of London City, which is the tiniest, cutest little airport you ever did see. The sun was just coming up as we ploughed up into the air, and I got treated to some of the most beautiful views of London I've ever seen as we circled up and round to get our south-east course. In the distance the hills were surrounded with fog, and the Crystal Palace transmitters were poking phalliciously out of a sea of swirling grey, while behind them the shoddy tower blocks of Croydon glinted in the rising sun. It was possibly one of the more arresting aspects over Croydon you are ever likely to see. The good views continued down the Thames, across north Kent - improbably fetching from the air, and again with the hilltops rising from the mist - and then all the way to the beaches of Calais and Dunkerque, where the cloud set in.
Note though, that if you ever get on one of those teeny Avro RJ85 jets, not to sit by the wing above the landing gear, the noise it makes as it drops out of the fuselage for landing, not two or three feet away from your right-hand butt cheek, is enough to frighten the most seasoned traveller right out of their underpants. Seriously, it sounded - and for a second felt - like all the demons of hell had grabbed hold of the plane and were shaking it for all they were worth.
I could have flown out to Munich yesterday evening, had a pleasant sleepful night in my hotel and arisen, fresh and bouncing with all the vivacious joys of the world, this morning, for a hearty, meaty German breakfast. But I thought to myself: 'Hey now, Munich airport has to be handy for the conference centre, doesn't it? Surely I can fly in and attend to the business of the day without having to charge an extra night.'
However, it turns out that Munich airport is actually right on the outskirts of the city, in fact, it is so far on the outskirts of the city that I am not entirely certain it's even in Germany. While the conference centre is also on the outskirts of the city, as far as I can tell from the signs on the Autobahn on the FORTY-FIVE MINUTE coach ride, it may as well be the outskirts of Salzburg ... or possibly Llubljana. Munich airport is very definitely not handy for the conference centre ... or Munich. Actually, damnit, Munich airport is not even handy for Munich airport.
Now, somebody needs to tell me ... are German customs officers obliged by law to have enormous moustaches? I've never encountered one yet who wasn't sporting a Thompson & Thomson style soup strainer on his upper lip.
There were about 12 of us on the flight out of London City, which is the tiniest, cutest little airport you ever did see. The sun was just coming up as we ploughed up into the air, and I got treated to some of the most beautiful views of London I've ever seen as we circled up and round to get our south-east course. In the distance the hills were surrounded with fog, and the Crystal Palace transmitters were poking phalliciously out of a sea of swirling grey, while behind them the shoddy tower blocks of Croydon glinted in the rising sun. It was possibly one of the more arresting aspects over Croydon you are ever likely to see. The good views continued down the Thames, across north Kent - improbably fetching from the air, and again with the hilltops rising from the mist - and then all the way to the beaches of Calais and Dunkerque, where the cloud set in.
Note though, that if you ever get on one of those teeny Avro RJ85 jets, not to sit by the wing above the landing gear, the noise it makes as it drops out of the fuselage for landing, not two or three feet away from your right-hand butt cheek, is enough to frighten the most seasoned traveller right out of their underpants. Seriously, it sounded - and for a second felt - like all the demons of hell had grabbed hold of the plane and were shaking it for all they were worth.
I could have flown out to Munich yesterday evening, had a pleasant sleepful night in my hotel and arisen, fresh and bouncing with all the vivacious joys of the world, this morning, for a hearty, meaty German breakfast. But I thought to myself: 'Hey now, Munich airport has to be handy for the conference centre, doesn't it? Surely I can fly in and attend to the business of the day without having to charge an extra night.'
However, it turns out that Munich airport is actually right on the outskirts of the city, in fact, it is so far on the outskirts of the city that I am not entirely certain it's even in Germany. While the conference centre is also on the outskirts of the city, as far as I can tell from the signs on the Autobahn on the FORTY-FIVE MINUTE coach ride, it may as well be the outskirts of Salzburg ... or possibly Llubljana. Munich airport is very definitely not handy for the conference centre ... or Munich. Actually, damnit, Munich airport is not even handy for Munich airport.
Now, somebody needs to tell me ... are German customs officers obliged by law to have enormous moustaches? I've never encountered one yet who wasn't sporting a Thompson & Thomson style soup strainer on his upper lip.
