Remember that dance track by Haddaway; ‘what is love?’ Well, I’ve been thinking lately about that most over-used, much-abused and completely ambiguous and unhelpful word: ‘love’. What is ‘love’?? When did it change from being an absolute and complex set of emotions for another person for whom you would die; to “I love cheese and onion crisps”. I love Eastenders. I love my children. I love football. “Thanks; love you lots!”, to the Amazon delivery man. Is love a finite quantity? Like blood. You have so much and when it’s gone there’s none left. You can bleed out but can you ‘love out’? You love your partner (I fucking hope you do, or I’m tellin’) and then children come along and you realise you suddenly need more love. And I mean a LOT more love. Then, later, sometimes, grand-children come along and you turn on the love-tap once again. This time all the way to 11. Does that mean you have to get this new love from old loves? Like the budget? Cut immigrant benefits to pay for a bus-fare cap? Stop loving Spurs because you’ve just had a new grandkid? Stop loving marmite??? It used to be that the wonderful word, love, was whispered in reverence to the very few people in your life to whom you were emotionally and physically attached. Nowadays we end calls with ‘love you’, after arranging a new electricity contract.

But I love City Airport. Where I’m sat, sitting, waiting for my flight to Florence. Nephew’s getting married on the weekend, so over we all go. Because we had a lot of warning about the date (‘command’ really rather than just information), I got flights on Air Miles. The outward one was business class, because that was all they were offering for people Avios-rich; pound-poor. So this morning, off we set.

We managed to shoe-horn everything into carry-on cases; ok, I did have a pair of Mel’s shoes in my ruck-sack, but a summer wedding in Italy; you gotta be thinking ‘linen!’ No suit, so easy peasy. Which means we can go by public transport to the airport. The totally fabulous roller-coaster ride on the almost cartoonish DLR. Which takes you, basically, right to the plane. Cos City AirPort is so wonderfully small. And there’s no queues!!! It’s all so easy. And after the Krakow Flight debacle of June, missing a flight for the first time in my life!!!, this is relaxation and joy just to be here, early and easy.

Yesterday we had messages from BA. “Sorry, cock-up on the catering front; can’t give you food on the flight. So here’s 20 quid each to buy some”. I won’t bore you with the hours it took to download the app and load it with the voucher, or you’ll think me a techno-spaz or something. Anyway; we went to Pret and bought 40 quids worth. Which sounds like it should fill a wheelbarrow, but it really isn’t. Not at ‘airport pricing’, cos they’ve ‘got you’. But as the flights, along with the Air Miles, only cost 26 quid, for both of us, I almost feel like I’m ‘winnin’’! Because you don’t get much out of BA, the world’s most hated airline (in my whole house). The love I once had for them is now redistributed around my children, grandchildren and doner kebabs.

Happy Flying

A xxxx