Sylvia's Journal

We left warm and damp Manchester, chauffeured to the airport by Woody. The plane was overbooked and we lucked out – Delta moved us to the first row which meant that the Atlantic crossing was a cinch. We woke up just in time for landing.

But then, as if to illustrate the concept of a zero-sum game, you win one, you lose one, we flew the second stretch in the backrow of KLM’s full plane that seemed to have been designed for children, as evidenced by the amount of screaming children surrounding us.

We arrived in our Dubai hotel feeling dirty and exhausted. Too late for the restaurant we had a bar dinner with our last cold beers in a poorly designed lounge watching Argentina beat Greece.

And now we are on our last leg(s).