[BITList] Auld claes and parritch

[HUGH]

The heading is what we came back to yesterday morning, after a most enjoyable break in Stockholm - old clothes and porridge.  Not (certainly not) the cheapest city in the world in which to shop, but the most enjoyable I've ever spent a break in.  Despite icy and slushy pavements (all roads clear, however), the place was full of tourists, and the one or two obese people we saw were in that category.  Though I looked, I didn't see a surveillance camera anywhere, and only two instances of graffiti (both political, and discreetly up an alleyway).  Also, I didn't set eyes on a damned supermarket.

While our stay in Stockholm was idyllic, life changed when our homeward BA plane to London City developed what the stewardess called "a minor technical fault, it should take 15 minutes to fix".  An engineer was expected to knock on the door at any minute. We had backed out of the berth a few feet, all geared up to leave, then resumed our previous position.  After about an hour of the engineer's attention and various announcements, some hopeful, some not, we were ready to go again, but the fault came back, and the pilot called it quits.  We all filed off, and the situation was explained to us at the boarding gate by two Swedish BA ladies. Alternative flight(s) would be to London Heathrow.  I heard our names read out as the only ones having an onward flight from London, but I couldn't get near the desk. So, by the time a loud mouthed American gent in a funny hat was persuaded to let someone else talk to the staff - they got sick of his interminable repetition of the words, "So, you will not confirm that I will be compensated for ending up in Heathrow instead of London City?" - the alternative flight we should have been on was full.  At one point Janet restrained me. Eventually the idiot took a hint, and arrangements were made, and a party of us trooped off, in single file mostly, with a BA lady at the head, along corridors to the SAS check in desk to be given boarding passes for an SAS flight leaving at 8.05pm (local time) for London Heathrow.  Our original flight had been 4.45pm to London City. We got to Heathrow Terminal 3 after 10.00pm (UK time); having been held up in a holding pattern due to traffic. Terminal 3 Arrivals was totally devoid of any BA rep about the hotel booking we were to get, or the details of the flight we were to get next morning to Glasgow.  We asked a workman, and he directed us to Departures.  Following all the signs, we ended up outside, under a multicoloured canopy.  All of our fellow delayed passengers had disappeared, having other fish to fry - we were the only ones with an onward flight. We found ourselves by various means to Departures, which was totally deserted.  A cleaner who spoke little English told us there was a BA office away in a corner, and so there was, and there were staff in it, but they knew nothing about the cancelled flight from Stockholm.  So we told them, and then they knew. Once informed, and papers examined, they soon got us organised with hotel, bus passes to hotel and Terminal 5, and details of our morning flight from 5.  But once back outside we hadn't a clue how to get to the bus.  A tall Londoner with a Heathrow ID dangling knew, and he was going that way, so we went with him and got a bus to the hotel.  Next morning, at Terminal 5, once again the few staff on duty (it was the 7.00 am flight) hadn't heard of the arrangements, but they soon got us boarding passes and checked in our cases. From then on, it was easy.

Only 54 emails were waiting, small beer compared with John Feltham's total.  We're still culture lagged, last night I couldn't remember where I keep my ties.

Hugh. 

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