Thursday, February 16, 2012


Without quite ever intending to I've developed a system of exhausting myself prior to any journey involving a flight so as to sleep on the plane. In this regard my work is very helpful. So I'm expecting to be firmly in the realms of nod for much of tomorrow morning on the way to Hong Kong.

Mind you, my system has been known to fail with spectacular effects. I remember a flight from Manchester to Singapore many, many years ago, just after Christmas, when I was certain I would spend at least three-quarters of the journey sound asleep in my carefully selected window seat where no one would disturb me. I didn't count on being asked by a young married couple to switch to the seat next to the aisle so they could occupy the two inner seats of the three adjacent to the window - and then finding myself asked to move by them no fewer than eight times (yes, I counted) in the course of the flight, apologetically waking me each time, so the young lady could use the toilet.

With good fortune I may find myself next to someone reasonably civilised with a functioning bladder on the morrow. But I'm not counting on it.

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