Been home a week now and it's been a long week but more of that to follow.
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| The Tenth Circle of Hell: Miami International |
The previous entry was scripted at San Jose Airport as we bid our farewells to Costa Rica - and despite the first impressions (involving flagrant thieving bastardy) those farewells were genuinely fond. But the holiday had its last few little tricks to play on us and these principally involved our established enemies, American Airlines and Miami International Airport. American managed to bollocks up the check-in process at San Jose so that we damn nearly missed our connection at Miami, while the staff at Miami (with a couple of honourable exceptions) did their level best to compound the error and force us to spend another unwanted stopover on their grubby floors. The place is an unmitigated shithole devoid of any charm or redeeming semblance of organisation. As you stand in the unregulated queue to clear Immigration (as you have to do even if merely transitting - what the hell is that about?) you can see on the wall of the holy land on the far side a welcoming photograph of the Commander in Chief himself, St Barack of Obama. If he's got any sense he'll tell them to take it down rather than pollute his brand by association with the wilful intransigence and rudeness. Miami International Airport is state owned.
A small note of thanks to the caricature foul mannered Frenchman sitting next to Sharon on the plane who took such umbrage at her quite reasonable need to visit the facilities just once in a nine hour flight. His own bladder control was I suppose admirable though it is quite conceivable that he had simply taken the expedient step of pissing himself. Smelt like it. Anyway, many thanks monsieur, it is a pleasant distraction to have racial stereotypes reinforced during a transatlantic flight.
Mais oiu d'accord, had a similar reinforcement on the beach this week of the frog stereotype. Having stood by a table waiting at lunchtime for it to be vacated I duly sat down to be informed by said fat frog he had told the waiters and therefore claimed the table. Not to be outdone I sat down. Then having to give in graciously I stormed off throwing his chair to the floor to hear him say "what behaviour, go home!", it's a good job I m a mild mannered sort or else I may have farted in his general direction, to coin a month python phrase!
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