Travel observation
Manchester airport; Terminal three.
Had to pass through on my way from one (Naturally closed, this being the UK) car hire office to another at a different terminal. I thought I’d sidestepped through a time warp into Qatar. Go look for yourself if you don’t believe me. I truly felt like a stranger in a strange land. In the country of my birth no less.
The following morning, the cab driver who took us to the airport seemed somehow relieved we were going to a different terminal.
Currently very relieved to be home despite the jet lag.
One of the reasons I don’t travel any more.
James, it came as a bit of a shock to the system. All those people who come to another country then refuse to integrate, preferring to ghettoise themselves?
Who do they think they are? English?