1654 days ago
I wake up in Copenhagen after a night at the WakeUp Hotel which is the Ryanair of Danish hotels. That is to say, it tried to nickel and dime you at every chance. The place is literally on the wrong side of the tracks - that is to say the view from the small window of my smaller room (cost £152) is of the railway tracks. Everything is on top. Breakfast, coffee, I am almost expecting to face a surcharge for using the loo in my tint bathroom or for having pulled the curtains shut last night. If I want my boarding pass printed off at reception it will be an extra £8. Bastards. If Michael O'Leary did hotels...
1660 days ago
I loathe flying. The truth is that it frightens me a bit. And so I usually have a drink or two in the hope that it knocks me out on the plane. But taking this type 2 diabetes seriously, there was no alcohol for me at Bristol airport on Friday. The place was crammed, largely with fat people flying Easyjet for stag and hen parties across Europe. The rotund stags and porcine hens were already drinking heavily by noon when the Mrs and I arrived and they were also stuffing their fat faces with processed junk food, aka sugar filled suicide sandwiches. I had a coffee.