Touch down

Word of caution. If you run into a pom called Reese the Grease in an airport bar, do not engage conversation, and in all circumstances do not indulge in a cheeky drink with him... 3 sore and sorry boys touched down in Changi, let me tell you, after a 9 hour haul that was like a rollercoaster of ups and downs. Or more exactly, ups and giggles that turned into downs, and tantrums and headaches. Well to be honest the tantrums were only on the Chicken-hawks behalf who held his breath in a disappointing display of crankiness somewhere over the Malacca Straits.

Trip started well except for some sort of spanish inquisition I received from Matty's guardian angels pre-trip. How and why would the Chicken-hawk and I lead him astray? Two gents as pure as the driven snow? Alby gave me such a stern look he suddenly appeared to morph into some sort of dominatrix of the cruelest and leatherest kind. Don't worry guys, the young padwan is in very good hands!

One thing to pick up from that flight was the benefit of one of those bizarre U-shaped pillows. The Chicken-hawk has brought one along, in a gesture that I assumed meant he had finally, openly forfeited his manhood. However, it appears a stroke of genius. Comfort plus! Well played Chicken-hawk.

Next stop Heathrow.

e-out