Jack is back

First time I’ve had a chance to blog since returning from France. Events of note – faceplanting at Formigal (hilarious), Vin Chaud at Gourette (sticky sweet delicious) and Bloc du Foie Gras de Canard with a succulent Jurancon Doux (so wrong but so right) in front of a roaring fire. Great snow, glorious sunshine, good time had by all. Up until the day of departure, that is.

Attempting to fly back on Thursday 13th March presented a small problem. The entirety of the French Public Services were on strike. Including Air Traffic Control. Which was pesky, as I was meant to be meeting a good friend at Edinburgh Airport on Friday morning.

What followed was a marathon relay drive where brothercat and daddycat took turns with basementcat to hurtle up the Autoroutes of France and the Motorways of Britain (give me French roads any day). Departing Pau at 12.45pm on Thursday, we arrived in Edinburgh at 06.00am on Friday, a rather impressive time, if somewhat exhausting.

For the record, the Frogs were on strike because they wanted higher public sector pay, and wanted the Government to raise taxes in order to achieve this. I think we all know what my feelings on that would be...

Just step aboard a Boeing, going...

Tomorrow morning I board a flight for African climes. I’ll be joining my parents out in Lagos, Nigeria, for the Christmas season and staying through New Year. For someone who has never ventured so far south before, it promises to be an interesting venture and I’m looking forward to discovering for myself what expat, and local, life is like.

Aside from obtaining a visa, I’ve been turned into a human pincushion in preparation for my trip. No less than six infectious diseases to be vaccinated against, boosters for jags I last had when I went to Romania in Sixth-Form. I’ve got anti-malarial tablets to take while I’m out there, and have been advised not to wear any scented deodorant and cover up as much as possible – prevention being better than cure, as the nurse reminded me.

I admit it makes sense, but it sounds like the sort of thing my mother would say. She’s been living out there with my Dad, and is one of the most efficient organisers I can think of. Nothing gets past her. Especially mosquitoes, who have always considered her a fine delicacy. Despite that, she hasn’t warned, mentioned, complained about or in any way referred to being swarmed by the creatures. Rightly or wrongly, this leads me to suspect that all is not quite as horrific as the nurse was leading me to believe. We shall see.

Speaking of horrific, the FCO website doesn’t exactly sell the place as paradise either. Kidnappings, spontaneous civil unrest, scams, curfews... Sounds just like Glasgow on an Old Firm day.

As befits such an adventure, I will be keeping a record of my visit on this blog. Hopefully I’ll have some interesting stories to tell, and if not, I’m sure I’ll find something to rant/wax lyrical about.

This will also be my first visit to T5 at Heathrow. Oddly, I’m more worried about that than the rest of the trip...