And we're off again...

Terminal 3, gate 5

And we're off again. And I'm already knackered. There's something soul-destroying about some airports. They suck the life out of you. They're also the 'Great Leveler' – unless you're rich enough to buy your own terminal, there are certain parts of an airport you all have to go through. Terminal 3 is a bun-fight. The queue for Emirates was in three parts, and no-one who worked there appeared to know what was going on. Twin that with people turning up for their flight with an hour to go (I know 'arrive three hours before...' is a little excessive, but surely you'd take that as a vague indicator that you should leave just a smidge of time for the check-in. Then again, all the latecomers were quickly ushered to the front, so maybe they're the smart ones...

So stressed, yes. After that bun-fight, I got a call from Richard, my new/old flatmate (yes, I know it's best not to revisit these things, but I'm filled with nostalgia). Apparently, there's a leak into the flat below. Cosmic. So, I've been on the phone to various people for the past hour, while doing laps of the terminal. Just as I thought there would be no more suprises, who do I see, but Wen. To be honest, I didn't recognise her without her fiance, but it turns out she's off home to Singapore for the week. She's now the umpteenth person to comment that I look like I've lost weight. Please, can somebody tell me whether this is a good thing or a bad thing – anything but an indifferent thing, because that's really confusing me. A pie or two for me on the plane, methinks.

There are about fifteen emirates stewardesses sitting ten metres away. With their 'kepi-esque' red hats with white veils to the side, and khaki uniforms, they look for all the world like rather avante-garde platoon of Foreign Legion (1st Soho regiment – 'The Madame Jojos'). I'm a little concerned they're not yet on the plane (unless they're planning to storm it, of course). I really hope this doesn't mean the flight's delayed. We're supposed to be taking off in thirty minutes, so I fear it is. Things can only get better.

I shall, of course, be endeavoring to add more photos to the text this time around. Right now, of course, 'Heathrow T3' wouldn't make particularly compelling material. Maybe something in 'Nairobbery' (as two people and Lonely Planet described it) will prove more fruitful.