The plane truth is..

I'm at the airport. I'm sitting in a Garfunkle's restaurant by large windows overlooking the tarmac where airplanes are coming and going from and to exotic locations such as Majorca, Barcelona, Paris, London (well, London’s not exactly exotic, it’s just big. But anyhow…). I love airports!

I've spent many hours of my life in airports all around the world, and I never tire of them (well, except London Heathrow which is just big…and confusing). I love listening to the conversations of people in bright outfits talking about their vacations in faraway places and the important chatter of men in dark suits talking on cell phones and playing computer games on their laptops. Strange as it may seem, I actually feel at home sitting in airport lounges drinking coffee and watching people.

I guess that's because I am and always will be a traveler at heart. But one might wonder what I am doing in an airport today. After all, aren't I in the middle of a term of study at the college as well as work at the church in Kirkintilloch? Yes, I am, but I decided to take advantage of a day off and a cheap airplane ticket to pop down to Manchester and visit a friend. It was also a good opportunity to escape the wet and chilly Scottish winter to go down to England where it was wet, chilly and foggy. My friend, Clare, and her family live on the edge of the Manchester area overlooking the moors and high on a hill where they can see into three counties.

Her dad says it's like living on top of the world. Of course, I had to take that all by faith as all I saw was fog. But I believed them.On the plane down, I was also reminded of the great skill and attention of the flight attendants who are placed on these planes not only to serve us but also to assure to our safety. One young man was particularly on top of things. I was seated in a single seat beside a big door which had great big letters on it saying EXIT. After skillfully doing his safety presentation while all the passengers read their newspapers, he leaned over me and said, "Just to let you know, that's the exit." I was so thankful for the information. He didn't ask me if I knew how to use it. He just wanted to make sure I knew what the door was there for. If he hadn't told me, who knows what I might have done! I might have thought it was the refrigerator door and opened it to look for a cold Pepsi, so he obviously saved us from disaster and saw to the safety of all.

Of course, I probably wouldn't have opened it anyhow because I have no idea how, but that's not the point... I had a great time in Manchester. I didn't understand anything anybody said to me, but I smiled a lot. While I do very well with all kinds of Scottish, English and Irish accents, the accent of Manchester will always be a mystery to me. They are truly kind people though, and I had a lot of fun with my friend as we visited museums, restaurants and coffee shops, and last night her mum made an absolutely delicious steak pie for dinner. We also had a great time talking and catching up on the things that have happened in our lives since we were in the college together last year.

I even understood her...though I do have to admit she had to repeat herself for me several times. On the flight back to bonny Glasgow, I met an older Scottish couple on their way back from a two week Caribbean cruise. They told me all about it. The gentleman patted a plastic bag filled with Scotch whisky as he told me, "I'm not an alcoholic or anything, but I've finished 12 bottles since leaving home two weeks ago." His wife told me how warm, sunny and beautiful it was in the Caribbean. She said almost every island looked alike to her (except Barbados, which she thought was flat and boring) but that they were all beautiful.

The man kept looking longingly at his plastic bag. She told me they had been traveling since early yesterday morning and were exhausted. He told me his clothes stank because he'd had them on so long. She looked at him with a "why do you share such information look" and I said, "You'll sleep well tonight, I imagine." The man replied, "Aye! After the pubs close, of course." Then they filed off the plane with everyone else, her with the luggage and him with his plastic bag. It looked heavy. I wondered how heavy it must have been two weeks ago when it was 12 bottles larger. Anyhow, that's how I ended up here at the airport. I think I’ll sit here a little longer, and then I’ll head back home and get back to work.

A London New Year

I got to go down to London for a few days last week with my brother. It was great to be somewhere where I could speak Spanish again. I even met a few people while I was there who spoke English. London is the most multi-cultural city in Europe.

There are 300 hundred languages spoken in London and at least 37 distinct immigrant groups who are considered to represent a significant part of the city’s population. Some people don’t like that, but I love it! You don’t even have to walk more than a couple of city blocks to encounter all kinds of different cultures. You meet so many different people with different backgrounds, and of course there is no end to the variety of foods available throughout the city.My brother and I had a good time visiting museums, walking along the Thames and through the city, eating all kinds of exotic meals (including Pizza Hut three times!) and just enjoying being together. We spent the nights at Islington, a lovely London community that is best known for drugs, violence and crime. We stayed there, however, not for what the local culture had to offer but because my brother’s friend, Travis, lives there. I think Travis is a drug lord or something, but I’m not sure. He works with some organization called Youth With A Mission.

Then after my brother left on Tuesday, I stayed for a couple more nights and shifted to a “hotel” near Paddington station so I could have a couple days all by myself to just rest before coming back to work here in the Glasgow area. My “hotel” room was very interesting. It was about the size of a traditional prison cell with a plain concrete floor and one wee window covered with bars that looked out on a little enclosed “garden” which was about the size of the room and had a bush or something like it in the middle of it. I got one of the special rooms that they offered with its own bathroom, so I at least didn’t have to share facilities with the other inmates…um, I mean guests. All I had to do to get into my bathroom was close the bathroom door at the foot of the bed, squeeze between the bed and the door, duck down underneath the television which extended from the wall in the corner, open the door halfway (which is as far as it would go before hitting the bed) and then squeeze into the little room to do whatever I needed to do there.

It’s a good thing I didn’t have any emergencies that required me to rush to the bathroom in the middle of the night as rushing through that process would likely end in serious injuries. However, the place served its purpose as I mostly just needed somewhere to lay my head at night while I spent the days wandering about town. I had a good rest and am now back in my flat here in Kirkintilloch, Scotland. I started classes at the college again on Friday and preached twice on Sunday at the church, so I have now officially returned to work and am looking forward to a busy but exciting year.