Another airport. We’re coming home. And I’m going to miss Tenerife. Madly. Deeply. Truly. Miss the sunshine. Miss the free booze from breakfast (or earlier) and availability of all food and facilities all day and night. Cappuccino heaven. And most of all, miss all the morbidly obese people with tattoos. They’ve become part of my life. An important part. Not just so I can feel infinitely superior (which I do, arrogant, smug piece’a shit that I am) but because I like thinking, 427 times a day: “what the fuck were you thinking???” Either for carrying 22 stone surplus around their waists or for having The full Genesis line up (the Mike Rutherford years) inked on her back. Including the roadies. And a few groupies, loitering by the limo. Though even that could be forgiven to a degree, presuming that Genesis played a big part in his/her life. As opposed to the Sanskrit/Arabic/Hebrew/Hindi words scrawled meaninglessly down a ribcage or having a piece of Māori cave-art drawn down an arm and half a torso. I make no judgements.

Because I’m sitting in a airport lounge. Using their WiFi, drinking their cappuccinos, eating their food. It’s not a ‘proper’ lounge to which you have access for just the 3 grand extra your ticket cost, but the ‘other’ type of lounge. The one you normally have to pay for to get in. But due to a historic quirk in a Barclays Bank account, we get ‘endless benefits’ (overselling suit to follow) which includes access for a limited number of times per year, to ‘other lounges’ in virtually every airport in the world. The only exception to this, generally, is the airport you’re actually in when you try to use it. But not today. Today it worked fine. As long as you choose to ignore the ‘lounge full’ sign outside, which I did, and so did the lady on the desk. And at aeropuerto Tenerife South they actually have… outside space!!! I mean, airports don’t offer windows or daylight anywhere, other than a very quick, hermetically sealed, aircraft view in some of the departure gates. But to sit in a lounge with actual air in it?? When the fuck did that last happen? And it didn’t happen totally here either because if you have ‘air’ that apparently is an invitation to pollute it in a non-Thunberg, more-Marlboro kind of way.

And you can spend your last moments in Tenerife watching just a few more morbidly obese people (tattoos optional), drinking beer and sucking on fags as if, ironically, they’re lives depended on it. And one last “what are you thinking???” before take-off.

Happy Landings

A xxxx