Security wasnt too bad, except for the dumb security boffin who get jerking his head at me and pinching his pocket. A new bhangra move? At least if he’d looked like Akshay Kumar or even Brad Pitt-but a deaf mute? I had no idea what he was saying – “remove your jacket” he said finally. As if it would have killed him to just ask in a normal tone of voice.

And then, I come in for a coffee, at a place that is a wireless hotspot. I ask for something savoury, and get a shrug -( I dont want to eat you, you ugly idiot.) Then, I ask for a tea, and see a tea tray being carried over to a slim blonde seated at a table. Oh, will you bring it over then, I ask, to be told no, here it is. I’m expected to carry it while dragging my laptop case behind me, and a hollow ghostly voice warns us that if we leave luggage unattended it will be destroyed, alongwith the children who are playing on the luggage trolleys and escalators no doubt.
So its table service for some then..
Anyway, Im having my revenge by sitting here, and occupying space and sipping tea very very slowly. Around me I can see people eating chips, cheese sandwiches, that are being carried to the tables to them. What is going on here? Anyway, its Costas in Heathrow terminal 4. Don’t come here unless you are one the following: slim in very tight jeans, blonde, under 25, or obviously white.
Oh, and most of the staff are Indian or maybe they are Pakistani or Bangladeshi – that may make me feel a bit better!!!
Finally, Heathrow sucks because it has no free wireless internet access. They say wireless hotspot, and then you have to create an account and sign up – paying the equivalent of AUD$10 an hour. Are they daft? I’ll just wait for Singapore’s Changi terminal where I will get better food, better service and free internet.

And just try getting to Heathrow terminals – the signage on the freeway is dreadful, and even if you follow it and get into the correct lanes with difficulty – because its dusk and they havent lit up the signboards yet, you come to further confusion at roundabouts – from where you can get to any terminal. So why bother tormenting us with all the lane signage from 10 miles back? It just makes me feel even guiltier about the hapless rellies who have driven me across half of England to get here well in time. Unlike Australia, where Arrivals and Departures are signed well in advance, there was just one sign at the last minute, that said Set Down, so I insisted on being set down there. My poor aunt was really astonished and worried, but I wasn’t going to have them trying to park and then find their way out of this dreadful airport and terminal.

The post Why I hated Heathrow appeared first on Susan Jagannath.

The narrow, stepped lanes are overlooked by windows set in deep set walls and covered with metal grilles, to keep out pirates, marauders, and maybe modern day drunks. There are frequent intersections that are little courtyards created by graceful arches, all lit by golden lamplight, that you can imagine is what oil lamps would look like. Of course, no doubt a few hundred years ago, these same streets might have been dark and dangerous by night!

We passed the floodlit St Peter’s Church, and the home of Simon the Tanner. Jaffa was one of the places that Peter came to to spread the gospel, after the crucifixion and resurrection of our Lord. Both appear to be really ordinary places, strangely beautiful in their sheer ordinariness. People and the press make such a fuss about evil being so ordinary, of course it is, but then so is goodness. A lot of very ordinary people do extraordinary amounts of good, thank God.

I didn’t bother to take photos, as I know all my night photos come out blurry, as if I’ve  had too much to drink! (Well, I did have a glass of wine.) So instead, I’m linking here to a set of photos taken by someone else, that capture what it looked like as we walked about last night.

ISRAEL – Old Jaffa by Night

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Half the fitness freaks were out, jogging, cycling or exercising. One poor little dog had had enough, and the owner was carrying it across her shoulder, while trying to wheel her bike. There were also two Muslim women in full headgear and robes on the exercise equipment in the park.

And yes, of course, there was a group of about 6 Indian guys walking along talking loudly in Marathi.

Jaffa was brightly lit in the distance, but it was too far to walk to. After all that seafront walking, maybe tomorrow I wont go for a walk in the early morning!

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