We left the developing-country disaster called LHR Terminal 3 an hour late at 2200 hrs which was a bit worrying as we were only due for an hour transfer time at Muscat (and it normally takes that long to get off the bloody plane!). Considering that our taxi picked us up before 1600 hrs that left five hours kicking or heels at the airport. Of course, security queues kindly filled up a lot of it. Grrr! There's a crappy bar called the Bridge that discouraged you from drinking by charging £4.50 for a pint of Stella (although we found a slightly more trendy Italian bar called Oriel that sold one for £3.95) . And as for shopping, do 99% of economy class travellers really need 1000 square metres of Harrods floorspace to browse? A truly soulless experience that only British corporate greed can design. Oman Air, on the other hand was a delight. 34 inch leg room, for crying out loud. No sharp pain when the idiot in front slams the chair back. Movies all the way (check out Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter!). And the outbound flight was only just over 6 hours so we had plenty of time to dash across Muscat airport. The second leg was even shorter: just over five hours to Bangkok arriving earlier than predicted. Curious in some ways: we set off just after dawn over Arabia, charged spinwards across the globe and arrived just after dusk in Thailand. Missed a whole day. Now if I could just learn to sleep upright . . .
Mike was a star, already waiting at the airport with his trusty pickup and ferried us to their new domicile. He suggested we go out for a beer as it was only eight in the evening of the 4th January (although, subjectively, it was still midday for us. Either way, it was two days without sleep but having driven up Thonglor Road (great name that; sounds like a '70s sword 'n sorcery hero) with Mike pointing out all the bars and restaurants, we discovered a new lease of life. A quick tour of Ekkamai (read: bars with prospective happy hours) we ended up in an outdoor restaurant on Ekkamai junction. Great place! Favoured by the Thai young set, festooned with coloured lights and lanterns, entertained by a Thai pop/group and a three litre tower of Singha beer we spend far too many hours wading through the menu. By one o'clock the next morning (that would be the 5th now) we were feeling some pain (or is that no pain!) and called it a day (or two). Ten hours' coma later we are up and raring to go for real!!
2 comments:
Think I'm going to open a book and take bets on how many days into the holiday it is before Dave ends up with his head down the toilet having tried to keep up with Mike!! I reckon 3 or 4 max!
Steve said
Thats a no bet as the odds will be not be good, still there maybe more life than we think in the old dog yet. 2-1
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