11/21/16,
“The North”
Manchester
Airport, England, United Kingdom (MAN)
Success!!!
Success! I finally did it! “England Complete! Mainland Great Britain Complete!” It took four trips to Britain to say that, but
I have finally done it. It is now time
for one of my favorite parts of any trip, something that was missing from my
previous two trips to England: the triumphant airport entry. I have completed all of my goals in England,
and it wipes away the crushing blows I was served in defeat during my previous
two trips, not that I regret either trip, but the failure of not visiting the
Stadium left me needing to come back.
The other WHS to see in Cornwall and the North made need to come
back. I did it, and now this unglamorous
view of the smoking area at Manchester Airport is my reward.
I am smoking my 2008 Christmas Pipe, the same
pipe I previously smoked in Mont Tremblant, Vienna, the aboard the Corinthian
(second night), and Xi’an. This smoking
area at MAN is nowhere near as wonderful of a dateline as those, but this
triumph having said “England Complete” trumps it all. There is so much to record about today, and
the majority of it will have to wait for the flight, since I am trying to
finish this pipe as quickly as humanly possible and get to my gate in about 20
minutes. I did not think I would do
it. I did not think I would get to the
airport in time. I did think my flight
would be able to take off in the rain.
However, I also did not think Brexit would happen or that Trump would
beat Clinton. All five things have
happened. As soon as I finish this pipe,
I will be boarding my plane. Actually,
let’s see if I can do the entry in brief.
After I closed, I woke up a little before dusk and got ready and got the
car. I headed straight to Albert Dock,
where I lit up a Montecristo and took a ceremonial picture from the inscription
spot, but the view was ruined by the new developments. It was pouring all day, and I knew that I
would want to spend as quickly as humanly possible at each site, both because
of the weather and due to timing.
My
first stop was Sir George Mallory’s birthplace, which, while it is not a WHS,
was the birthplace of the person whose quote gave the name for this trip. It was not exactly a tourist site, either,
but I took my picture and got right back in the car. This was where he was born, and I could feel
the history of the 400-year-old building.
I got back in the car, lit up a Graycliff, and made a beeline for the
next site: Fountains Abbey at Studley Royal Park.
A common theme throughout the day was the
rain and associated traffic delays. I
was starving, but I had no time to stop for food. When I got to Studley Royal Park, I figured I
had ten minutes outside there, but I had parked away from the Fountains
Abbey. That put a bummer on things. I got a scone at the cafe, souvenirs at the
gift shop, lit up a Romeo y Julieta and walked as quickly as I could to the Abbey. It was a royal park, as the name suggests,
built around the ruins of a medieval abbey.
I found the spot of the inscription photo, took my ceremonial picture
and raced back.
From there it was to
Durham, to see the castle and cathedral, the castle dating back almost a
millenium. I have ten minutes now, so
I’ll be very quick. I will expound more
on England later. When I got to Durham,
the rain was even worse, but I lit up a Partagas and made it as Official as
possible. I went to the castle, found
the inscription spot, took my ceremonial picture there, found the VC, and got
my souvenirs, and back to the car. It
was now looking good to get the last site by dusk, but I was no longer enjoying
anything. I was in full stress
mode. I just wanted to finish my mission
and get to the airport to write this entry.
I made it to Saltaire just as dusk was setting in, and I found a spot
for a ceremonial picture. This was the
worst the rain had been. I didn’t
care. I couldn’t find the inscription
spot. I didn’t care. This was it.
I took my picture. I was so
caught up in everything that I didn’t realize what had just happened. That was the last site. I had done it. Mission Accomplished. I remembered, and I was on the verge of tears
as I shouted my announcement out to the skies.
“England Complete! Mainland Great
Britain Complete!” I looked in vain for
a souvenir shop, but everything was closed.
My pipe is almost done, so I will now close, and, in accordance with
tradition, I will treat the rest of the journey in entirety from an en route
entry.
Aboard QR
24, En route MAN-DOH
Okay, that
entry was, like the entirety of the past few days, abbreviated and rushed. I now have some time to relax and write out a
proper entry before the serve dinner, as I very much intend to crash after
dinner. It will be a short flight, but I
am getting used to running on such short sleep.
I have been trying to shroud my destination this trip in as much mystery
as possible, but traditions must be observed, and my astute reader will realize
that QR refers to Qatar Airways and that DOH refers to Doha. Well, that’s that.
I have reflected plenty of England in the
past, but it always strikes me how differently the language is used in England
versus in America. In fact, after a few
days of listening to BBC Radio almost nonstop, I started to refer to the lift
and the loo and the car park almost second nature. I also love the humorous banter found on the
talk radio, which made for very familiar company over the past three days.
Then there was the talk of politics. Brits hold their politicians to their campaign
promises in ways that, unfortunately, the Americans do not. All the talk on the radio was about whether
Theresa May was reneging on a campaign promise.
What she had said was that, under her administration, corporations would
put a worker’s representative on their board of directors. When she said that that would be a
recommendation and not a mandate, the media accused her of breaking her
campaign pledge, and it’s become a minor scandal. We just elected a President who first
promised to ban all Muslims, then said just immigrants from terror-prone
nations, then just extreme vetting of immigrants from those countries. All of that was before he even got
elected. The Brits would not stand for
such waffling.
The mood in the country
was one of stoic worry. They were
worried both about Brexit and Trump, but they took both with their chins
up. They will carry on, like they always
do, even if Brexit has put pay to certain economic investments they were
otherwise planning. Okay, so that’s all
I wanted to say about Britain. I will
now properly wrap up the entry.
After I
finished up at Saltaire, the rain kept getting worse, to the point where I
started to think the driving conditions were dangerous, but I had no choice. Missing my flight was simply not an
option. I drove as quickly as I deemed
safe, and the rain kept getting worse.
Then it almost stopped, and the traffic cleared up, and, miraculously, I
was looking good to make my flight. I
returned the car and nervously waited for the bus to take me to the terminal,
checking in online as I waited. The airport
was practically empty, this Doha flight being the last one. I still hadn’t eaten. I had a bag of chips when I gassed up after
Saltaire, and I had the scone at Studley, but that was it. I was too single-mindedly focus to be
hungry.
When I got to the airport, it
was more rushing. I learned that there
was an outdoor smoking area sheltered from the rain. I checked in and headed that the smoking
area, filling up my pipe as I walked. I
lit up my 2008 Christmas Pipe and smoked it as quickly as I could. That was where I sat down and wrote my first
entry. After I closed, I headed to the
boarding gate, stopping at Duty-Free to spend my remaining pounds on some
cigars. I then went to the gate, still
not having eaten, and was one of the last passengers on board. The flight was almost empty, and I knew that
I would have a full three-seater to myself.
I sat down and, as soon as we took off, proceeded to write this entry,
which I will now close so that I can publish before dinner.
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