Bristol, Heathrow, Beijing, Bangkok

24 hours from Bristol to Bangkok beckon balls-ups and friendly encounters.

Bristol to Heathrow

My ex-wife, Helen, had persuaded me to pack a jumper.  I had tried so hard to remove all luxuries, attempting to pack light.  Despite this, helped by the English winter, I agreed.

1 hour into the bus journey, a French lady pointed out that she was getting a heat stroke at the behest of a faulty heating system.  Despite the cold outside, onboard we had a taste of Burmese sunshine.  A balmy 28degrees.  Maybe that jumper was a bad idea after all.

Arriving at Heathrow with a large box

Stopped by a man of African descent.  “How is it that you are allowed to carried a TV on the plane”.

Heathrow thankfully empty.  The bike box so wide, it should require license to maneouvre.  I do so, into signs, sidings and the odd child for good measure.

Finally in departures.  Hours to spare.  A first.

Tired.  Really tired.  I discover a pocket full of loose change.  Realising I had to spend said change or receive its brick-weighted burden, I set upon finding dinner and snacks.  I paid with card.

Realising shortly after what a total idiot I’d been, I decided to ignore all sensible means of disposing said coins (e.g. more sun screen) and instead opted to purchase my bodyweight in chocolate.

A Chinese girl attempted to use a vending machine as we waited to board.  40p short, I quickly popped over, inserted the money and issued an accompanying smile.  5 minutes later, the same girl returned with a box of chocolates to say thank you.  So incredibly sweet.  Both the gesture and the volume of sugar now in my possession.

Now aboard Beijing-bound, I sipped beer, swallowed sleeping pills and drifted into a haze of happiness and exhaustion.