I usually wake up far too early before a trip, then spend ages waiting for a taxi. Today I was lying in the bath when the taxi came. This happened to me once before when I fell asleep in the bath. Today I didn’t fall asleep, but the time just disappeared. Maybe I was abducted by aliens for 30 minutes. I heard a knock on the door and panic ensued…
As I get older I enjoy taxi rides more and more. Taxi drivers are notorious for moaning and now when I get in a taxi I feel totally in my element. I can just moan and bitch about life, the Universe and everything. Throw in a couple of, “They’ll be first against the wall when the revolution comes”, and my morning is complete. 🙂
Today’s flight is via Paris, which for some reason means I go from the domestic terminal in Birmingham. I guess if nothing else it gives me a change of scenery. I’ve seen far too much of the international terminal recently. I have one hour to change in Paris and I don’t have my boarding pass for the second leg yet. I don’t think I’ve ever been through CDG before, so I’m not sure if this is a reasonable amount of time to transfer or not. Time will tell.
Update 1: I’m going through the Paris transfer now. The Air France guys are telling me to go to the boarding gate without a boarding pass. You can’t get to the terminal without a boarding pass, but I have to get to the terminal to have my boarding pass printed. Hmrgh… As much as I hate the world perception of the English, acting like an bumbling idiot (Hue Grant style) does help at times like this. If you look clueless long enough their superiority complex kicks in and they help you out of sympathy. While they are smugly congratulating themselves on how thick the English are I’m mentally putting my little finger to the corner of my mouth and saying “Muhahaha” in a DR Evil style. 🙂
Update 2: There was a little drama at the boarding gate. The Jat Airways people told me I needed to go back to the transfer desk and get a boarding pass. I told them what the Air France guys had said and slipped seamlessly into the stupid English man act for the second time today. Problem solved. Muhahaha… 🙂
Update 3: I’m now in Belgrade, but my bag isn’t. I’ve got everything I need to teach tomorrow, except clean clothes. Nothing makes a first impression like that stale aeroplane and airport smell. Nice… I’m going to see if I can pick up a couple of things tonight without hitting my credit cards too hard. I have no idea what proces are like over here.
2 thoughts on “Belgrade, Serbia: Day -1”
You’ll be lucky. When I was in Belgrade for my OU seminar, I realized I’d not brought enough pants (underpants for our US readers). I then spent an evening walking up and down the high street outside the OU venue, going into shops and asking each of them if they had underpants, and then trying to deal with the non-standard Serbian pant sizes.
In the end, I managed to buy a boxed set of very expensive, lurid and skimpy budgie-smugglers which I excitedly got home, tore the wrappers off, tried on and then found were too small. I then spent the first 30 minutes of the seminar the next morning trying to explain the incident to the audience, but all I got was silence and general bafflement from them.
Since then, at least for venues where English is not well spoken (and where pants/pant sizes) are different to the UK, I’ve always packed a spare pair.
With all of the trials and tribulations of international travel you have faced, why don’t you write a book on tips for travelers? I bet it would sell well and be excellent with your sharp wit and sense of humor!
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