Roland just arrived at the riad, 3 days late. He's got some great stories about what he went through once the flight landed. But what struck me as most horrifying is how our British cousins decided that all the travelers' misfortune was a chance for them to make a fortune. Heathrow and Gatwick haven't been flying for two days and every possible way of separating stranded tourists from their money turned the Brits into sharks in a feeding frenzy. All the public transportation at the airport was down so to get from one terminal to the next, taxi drivers were charging $62 flat. He wound up sleeping on the airport floor one night and then Terminal 4 shut down and they threw everyone out. So he was forced to seek shelter in a cruddy 2-star hotel in Howley-- for $329. Everyone he met was out to rip him off.
Fortunately, now he's in a country where hospitality is part of the national consciousness.
When I woke up this morning their were soldiers everywhere with heavy duty weapons. And then squads of them in dressy, colorful uniforms with fancy hats. The king is back in town.
No comments:
Post a Comment