Monthly Archives: March 2017

Welcome to London Heathrow

“The local time is 7:02 AM, and your internal clock time is 2:02 AM. We hope you managed to get a couple of minutes sleep despite our concerted efforts to make the journey as uncomfortable and cramped as legally possible. The weather in London is traditional English: grey, mild, with a chance of showers. UK and EU passengers should join the ludicrously long line for the newly improved rapid, automated passport control system. Simply walk into the slaughterhouse-style enclosure, place your passport on the glass and stare at the screen until the flashing sign asks you to seek assistance. Once the “Border Force” employee has attended to all of the other gates she will ask you to step out and back in again. The whole process should take no more than a couple of hours.
Passengers with checked baggage should wait by carousel number 3 for approximately an hour while a selection of mysteriously unclaimed suitcases are displayed for your entertainment.
Once passengers have negotiated the bewildering maze of customs passages, interconnection with London Underground is a short 45 minute walk along corridors decorated with beautiful murals depicting the wondrous experience you would bloody well hope to expect if you forked out 25 quid for the Heathrow Express. Passengers should be aware that by the time they reach the London Underground it will be rush-hour and consequently should prepare themselves for a hellish journey of about an hour and a half, packed in with commuters who want to kill them for bringing a large quantity of encumbrances and obstacles in the shape of suitcases and backpacks onto an already impossibly overcrowded train.
Thank you for flying Air Airways – we hope you choose to fly with us again, even though we are fully aware you didn’t actually choose us.”


Balls of the base variety

The company paid for us to have a day in the sun and even provided some food and beer – all while we should have been at work. Who could object to such a good deal? Me.
Without wanting to sound ungrateful, I feel the need to comment on my first baseball experience. The TL;DR version is:

  • Tailgating is a depressing testament to the failure of America to live up to its own hype.
  • The Phillies played like crap
  • Baseball is a stupid and boring game. Stupider than Cricket. Stupider than American Football (and that’s saying something).
  • It was 92F and there is no shade in the vast majority of the ground. But that doesn’t put people off for some reason.
  • Fans of the Phillies (pretty much everyone in Philadelphia) absolutely do not understand how anyone could not be thrilled by the experience let alone understand my view on it.

So, for the uninitiated, the start of a day of serious sportsfanship in this colony involves “tailgating” which means starting the day’s celebrations in the parking lot [car park] where people “party” by drinking beer, throwing things around and sometimes grill food.
Now, like every other human being on the planet, there’s nowhere I’d rather be on a hot sunny day than a massive concrete parking lot together with a bunch of people I don’t know from work who are all wearing the same clothes. Drinking a beer, having a sandwich and watching everyone thrill to the excitement of playing “cornhole” (they really do call it that) is indisputably fun of course. But doing so in a massive concrete car park, with all of the romantic and sensual sights and smells that go with it creates a truly memorable experience.
Wiley enterprising patriots set up stands near by where you can purchase bottles of overpriced water and “Trump for President” T-shirts; proud murcans all.

But of course, this rich cultural experience was just the hors d’Oeuvres – the main course (which is inexplicably known as “entree” in the U.S.) was yet to come.

A few of us were unable to suspend our excitement and so left the parking lot before all of the beer had been quaffed and headed over to the stadium. The obscene heat punished us for daring to leave the shady serenity of the concrete but we persevered in the knowledge that excitement, refreshment and seating awaited us in the cathedral of sports that was only an agonizing few minutes walk away in the 92F heat and 90% humidity.
We eagerly presented our company-bought tickets and were permitted entry to the ruby city of the Phillies stadium. It was everything I imagined it would be! A vast amphitheater packed with armies of identically dressed people sampling the gastronomic delights and audaciously over priced beer before returning to their seats where the non-stop action can be enjoyed.

There was some initial confusion regarding the location of our seats, but after a long and tiring slog through the labyrinthine stadium village we eventually found the oddly shaped grill that was our alloyed seating: the Budweiser Rooftop! Imagine the top shelf of the oven but with a good view of the lush green sportsball field.

I started writing this over a year ago but ran out of inspiration, though you can pretty much imagine the rest – especially if you’ve seen a baseball game.