Back in Good Old Blighty.

Ah, back in the land of politically-correct wank and bureaucracy for less than 24 hours and already I want to turn round and climb on the next plane out of here. My hackles started to rise in Stanstead Airport where apparently some new legislation applies which dictates that ‘No Smoking’ signs must be placed no more than twenty feet apart, though some variation of their contect is allowed: Smoking is illegal, Smoke here and we’ll take you to a political correction cell and beat the soles of your feet with a rubber hose. However, my hackles really stood up upon sight of the big blue ‘UK Border’ sign with its pale zit-encrusted officials gathered underneath. Beyond the sheer fucking arrogance of that I just knew that beyond it everything was going to go further down hill. I wasn’t wrong. After going into shock for a while with the cold, the endless roundabouts and traffic, we finally got home to immediately put on the central heating, which took about five hours and probably a new mortgage to take the temperature up to somewhere bearable. For the night, hot water bottles were dusted of cobwebs and filled. Today, since the car was in cobwebs for a while too, it was necessary to get an MOT. As we discovered on our last return trip here everything costs no less than £50, and this was no exception. Whilst the MOT was being conducted we headed off down the pub … another mistake I won’t make again. No smoking of course, so the four customers and one of the two bar staff were outside smoking whilst a pub capable of holding hundreds had one person inside. Outside we put our cigarettes out in ashtrays filled with water which was not there to stop the ash being blown about by the hot meltemi wind. The glasses weren’t out of a freezer, since that was hardly necessary. On our way away we noted that the pub seemed as ragged, run-down and as fucked-over as the country it occupies. No money to repair the damaged toilets or paintwork; that was all spend on the unused wheelchair lift to convey chairs over the three steps into the restaurant area.

9 thoughts on “Back in Good Old Blighty.

  1. i wish the global warming would kick in all ready. bloody cold out side trying to smoke.

    on the up side since everyone is outside to smoke, going out now always has the feel of carnival. you know, throngs on the street, milling about. yah! nanny gov. wins again!


  2. God or FSM or IPU knows what smoking-a dirty filthy nasty deadly addiction, has to do with global non-warming is beyond me.( My dad died at 57 cos of his smoking so yes its a filthy life threatening self poisoning in my books).
    More important to us all is your productivity.

    What the next coming?……

  3. Gabriel, Kirby made the connection between non-global warming and smoking i.e. since people aren't allowed inside to smoke, they're shivering outside. You want another connection? Those with the same pc do-as-I-say mindset are on the same bandwagon.

    Orbus, a follow-up to The Voyage of the Sable Keech, is now in the hands of the editor.

  4. it's sad to see this country going down the tubes, but as we move closer to the classic european socialist model loaded with 21st-century Politically Correct add-ons i see it getting only worse not better. everythings about human rights, except for the human rights of the damn people who pay for it.

    great news about the book, neal! 🙂

  5. Central heating still work? Ooh, just wait until our knackered power stations start to fall off the grid, then we'll all be at the mercy of the elements. Actually it's slightly warmer this week than it was at the end of October – you missed the snow.. Welcome back!

  6. Apparently global warming's effects on the currents is actually going to cool down the UK, kinda like a less extreme version of the Day After Tomorrow. To annoy you all even more, it's just about summer time down here in Australia!

    Looking forward to Orbus though 🙂

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