After watching the expedition ships
setting off to Antarctica the previous March from Ushuaia harbour in Southern Argentina, I
decided to make Antarctica my holiday destination for 2007 - and to hell with the price! I
arranged a two week trip for the following year over the summer of 2006. As this would leave me with two
weeks of my four weeks holiday to spare I also decided to spend some time
in Trelew in Patagonia at the start of the holiday, and also a week in the
Atacama Desert (I'd been there before in
after the Antarctic trip. So after parting with a substantial amount of
cash for eleven air-tickets and a 12 day Antarctic trip I set out on a hectic four weeks at the end of January.
Saturday 27th Jan. 2007: I
got a taxi to Glasgow Airport for London Heathrow; the first of four
continuous flights to Trelew. Then I took a second flight to Madrid. By now it was midnight. There I checked my email: despite
having booked a hotel in Trelew in Patagonia over the Internet, no
conformation had yet been received. I tried to buy some cigarettes at the
duty free and my credit card was rejected! Small doubts began to come into
Sunday 28th: The Iberia flight to Buenos
Aires was 13 hours of torture. I couldn't sleep; the in-flight entertainment
comprised of a miniscule TV screen about 15 metres away - not that the
headphones worked anyway. I arrived in Buenos Aires at about midday and got
a bus transfer to Gorge Newbury Aeroporto. Aerolineas Argentine were up to
their usual organisational standards; the plane to Trelew had been put
back 3 hours. "But you should have known", explained the woman behind
their desk. "We gave your travel agent in Scotland 24 hours
Very good, considering that 24 hours earlier I had been in mid-air en route.
Eventually I got the flight to Trelew and a taxi to my hotel. As I
suspected the reservation had never been processed. Fortunately they arranged
for me to stay the first night in another hotel where I finally got some
Monday 29th: Deliberately slept till
checkout time which was only 11 o'clock. Trundled my case back to the
"Hotel Libertador" and checked in. Then I went out for a walk.
Trelew, and the surrounding area was originally settled by Welsh settlers
in the early 18th century and had supposedly kept their Welsh traditions and language
alive; however by the end of day one I still hadn't heard a single word of
Welsh spoken - not so much as an "indeed to goodness, boyo". Also the
greengrocers seemed bereft of leeks, nor was I accosted by gangs of
male-voice choirs rampaging across the Pampas singing in tight harmony.
Actually the whole town was a bit of a disappointment; it still seemed to
be trying to hang desperately to a long vanished "pioneer town" image,
only failing dismally. Apart from the small town
it was also pretty dilapidated and there wasn't really much to see. It was
also stiflingly hot. I went to
the Tourist Office where they suggested I should go to see the nearby
towns of Gaiman and Dolavon. I checked out the bus station and decided to
do so the following morning.
Tuesday 30th: It took me about an hour to
work out the bus-routes and I finally arrived in Gaiman about 2 o'clock in
Everything was closed. There was hardly a person to be seen in the wide,
decaying streets. The whole place seemed bland, featureless and decaying.
It had the atmosphere of an American Mid-West town in a 1980's film where
you expected a transient serial-killer to strike at any moment. I climbed
up a small hill - at an elevation of only 100 feet the town became almost
invisible. Directions were useless as almost none of the streets had names
on them. I went into the only shop that was open; the atmosphere was like
going into the "Local Store" in the BBC black comedy "The League of
Gentlemen". In other words not very welcoming. It suddenly occurred to me that there was
apparently no bus-stop to get away again. I waited at the side of the road for over an hour
before a bus came to take me to Dolavon. Was this the worst
I had ever visited in my whole life?
Perhaps, but only for about half an hour.
Dolavon turned out to be even worse. While everything in Gaiman may have
been shut, at least in Gaiman there were places to be shut. In the whole 2
hours I was in Dolavon I only came upon one shop (shut), 4 slightly
menacing teenagers and a stray dog. The tourist propaganda and my
guidebook drivelled on about a "picturesque canal" with "traditional
waterwheels" running through an "untouched Welsh agricultural town" as if
it was some sort of rustic utopia. In fact the "canal" turned out to be a
stagnant, concrete-lined drainage channel and the "traditional
waterwheels" were rusty tin-cans on iron spindles that deposited water
into stained concrete basins on their top. The water then trickled back
through pipes into the "canal" demonstrating their complete lack of
purpose. The rest of the town was arid, featureless and utterly boring.
Even escape was difficult. After half an hour the driver of the first bus
denied he was going to Trelew (despite a prominent sign saying "Trelew" on
the dashboard) and it was an hour
before another turned
up. Back in Trelew I decided
to go and have a look around their famous museum of palaeontology which I
was glad to say lived up to its reputation with a fine dinosaur display in
an imaginatively modern interior. I spoke to one of the curators and made
plans to go to the Entomology Parque the next day.
Wednesday 31st: I awoke
with a badly sunburnt nose. I decided therefore not to risk a day out in the
dinosaur park as I had better things to do than end up with bad sunburn
before my Antarctic trip. But what else to do? It was suggested that I go
to Caleta Valdés to see the colony of Magellanic Penguins but no: as I
pointed out is was a 3 hour bus trip to get there, I'd be seeing lots of
penguins soon in Antarctica and had seen a much better colony of Magellanic penguins in Ushuaia last year. And anyway, who wanted to see a
lot of rubbish penguins sunbathing in a heat wave, no doubt wearing
sunglasses and eating Coronettos, when real penguins
freezing on icebergs? And anyway they stink of fish.
So instead I went back to dreadful Gaiman,
but this time to see the intriguing Parque El Desafio. This is a unique "theme
park", for want of a better description, being built entirely of recycled junk.
The flower beds were stocked with flowers made from cut up coke-cans and
old light-bulbs and there was everything from a mini Taj Mahal to
dinosaurs to a Red Indian Village all made from rubbish. The creator, now
in his 90's was there to greet me, and according to my guidebook the park
has even made it into the Guinness Book of Records as the worlds largest
recyclable theme park.
In the afternoon I took another bus, this time down to Puerto Madryn on
the coast which proved to be a rather run-down resort town on the coast
although in retrospect it would probably have made a better base for exploring the
area. At least this was my last day before flying to Ushuaia.
Thursday, March 1st: I booked out of the
hotel in the morning and went to check my email - and the first thing I
saw was a banner headline about a Norwegian cruise ship hitting an iceberg
in Antarctica! I looked up Reuters - information still a bit sketchy but
it seemed it had ripped a 25 metre hole in its hull trying to get into
Deception Island. Shit! That was the first place we were meant to be going.
There were also reports of a fuel spillage which despite the ship's owners
denials, for some reason didn't leave me reassured. However there wasn't
any point in worrying.
The flight to Ushuaia left on time but the
last hour before landing was rather fraught to say the least. Flying
backwards and forwards, buffeted all over the place by the Andean
turbulence in pitch darkness, I was glad when we finally touched down. I got
a taxi to my hotel - the driver got lost and I eventually had to give him directions.
However the "Hotel Vista" turned
out to be a very nice, very modern place, run by a young couple who served
made from seaweed and
provided unlimited, free internet access. And this time my internet
booking had actually worked.
Friday 2nd: After breakfast,
I walked into
Ushuaia. Even in the year since I had last been there there was a lot of
new housing being build on the outskirts of town. I booked an all day hiking
and kayaking trip in the National Park then went and checked my email and
sent email to friends and family. I also checked up for more news
regarding the holed Norwegian Cruise ship. It turned out that it wasn't an
iceberg, but a rock under the surface it had hit but the rest was true.
However all the passengers had been evacuated safely so at least we
wouldn't have to suffer "Titanic 2" in the cinema in a couple of years
time. In the afternoon I visited the Ushuaia Museum which is set in the
old prison and always worth a visit. I had a big steak dinner in the
evening, bought some toiletries and had an early night.
Saturday 3rd: I was picked up early
(surely an Argentinean first?) for
the hiking trip. This was quite a good day, beginning with a 10 kilometre
walk along the
Beagle Canal then we were picked up and taken to a
campsite for lunch. It
started to rain torrentially, we were eating in a small marquee but it
looked grim for the kayaking in the afternoon. Fortunately the rain
stopped and we were able to kayak downstream to the sea. It was just as
well we were going downstream as it quickly became apparent that I was the
only one who had any idea about paddling let alone steering but we made it
eventually. Afterwards I was dropped off in Ushuaia town centre and
I managed to book a half-day horse trek (just myself and someone from the
stables) for tomorrow afternoon. Actually I was supposed to be meeting up
with the Antarctica Group then for a guided tour of the Tierra Del Fuego
National Park, but personally would rather have been impaled on an
electric spike than go, having done that tour in various guises more times
than I cared to remember. After dinner went back to the "Hotel Vista" and
spent the evening downloading photographs and sending some farewell emails on their free
Sunday 4th: This morning I had to change
hotel: The night before departure for Antarctica was pre-booked by
my tour company. This I did before heading into Ushuaia for some last
minute shopping. Unfortunately I had forgotten it was a Sunday and half
the shops were shut but I got what I needed (especially waterproof trousers)
eventually. I then had some lunch before sending my last emails. I headed out to the
riding stables in the afternoon. This was riding unlike anything you would
get in the UK - apart from anything else I doubt if any UK stable would
have the insurance to cover it. Myself and a Dutch girl from the stable
set out through the forest, it soon turned out the track was blocked and
we had to force our horses down the steep mountainside, dodging tree
branches and pushing through up to three feet of solid thorn bushes. At
times we had to dismount as it was almost impassable. Eventually we got to
the shore and galloped and cantered as far along the Beagle Canal as we
could go until the sun started setting.
By the time we got back it was dark and when I eventually made it to the
hotel there was nothing left
to go to bed.
Monday 5th: After breakfast we labelled up our luggage and set of for the
obligatory tour of the Tierra Del Fuego National Park which I thought I
had managed to miss. It was raining
slightly and as I've done this tour innumerable times, less than
interesting. We had lunch at a hotel then set off to the docks.
The "Akademik Shokalskiy" at
580 tonnes was dwarfed by the huge cruise ships in the dock but as I knew
was capable of going where no cruise ship could. I had a good cabin,
sharing with an Australian guy. After leaving port we went through the
mandatory lifeboat/evacuation drill which left me thinking that if it was
the real thing we would be as well letting half the clueless idiots drown,
then at the end of the Beagle Canal our pilot left on the launch, we
turned South and were on our own. At 20.00 we had an introductory meeting
in the bar followed by an early night.
Tuesday 6th: I got up to an
excellent breakfast, by now we were well out of sight of land. At first
all the Drake Passage had to throw at us was a gentle swell
I attended a couple of lectures on the wildlife and geography of
Antarctica. However in the afternoon it got progressively more stormy, the
deck became pretty precarious and from the Bridge I watched waves breaking
over the bow deck. By late afternoon we were in a Force 10 storm and the
decks were closed. Everyone was either ill or bouncing off
the walls. I wasn't ill but as moving about was becoming almost
impossible I took some strong anti-histamines (just in case), and went to
Wednesday 7th: The storm was if anything
worse. I managed to make it to one meal but it wasn't worth it. In fact
nothing was really worth it. At times the ship was doing 46° rolls. Even
going to the toilet was an adventure. My cabin-mate tried and went
length on the floor. Anything that wasn't tied down was falling and
sliding about everywhere. I spent most of the day in bed, sleeping, reading
and wondering what the hell I was doing here. I attended a mandatory
briefing in the bar where we were told "remember, this is not a vacation,
it's an expedition". And an 05:30 hrs start tomorrow morning! I went back
to bed to dream of never-ending roller coasters
Thursday 8th: Forsooth! I
woke to a
comparatively flat, calm sea! I spent 25 minutes (I was later able to do it
in 12) getting dressed in multiple layers of underwear, socks, t-shirts,
thermals, shirt, pullover, fleece, polar jacket, life-jacket,
gloves, hat, hood, sun-blocker etc etc and was up on deck by 06.00 hrs. We
then went down the gangway to the Zodiacs and after a couple of minutes
landed ashore for our first landing on Aitcho Island.
Although this island had very little snow or
ice cover - the temperature was a couple of degrees above freezing,
it was a beautiful, clear morning. The shore was home to hundreds of
friendly penguins; if you lay on the ground they would walk round and even
perch on your stomach. We walked over a ridge to the other side of the
island where there was a colony of elephant seals. Old, bleached whale
bones and vertebrae littered the beach. I took a lot of photographs before
we retraced our steps and after a couple of hours went back to the "Shokalskiy"
in the Zodiacs. Unfortunately my main SLR camera developed a fault, or at
least the memory card did. Damn! I had only the one card with me. Before I
left I had confirmed that there was a computer on board that I could
and burn to CD any photos I took but in my wisdom I hadn't bothered buying
a back-up memory-card. However I still had my digital compact and a number
of flashcards so all was not lost.
The ship proceeded South throughout the
morning and by early afternoon we reached Deception Island. This is an
active volcano which last erupted in the late 1960's causing the
evacuation of several research stations. It was also a whaling station
until the mid 20th century. The interior of the island comprised of a
flooded caldera which you sailed into through an channel called Neptune's
Bellows. This looks wide enough except for the fact that there was a
jagged rock just under the surface right in the middle. It was upon this
very rock that the Norwegian cruise ship had come to grief the previous
week. We landed on the shore for a couple of
hours. There was a lot of evidence of the whalers; piles and piles of aged
whale bones, ruined building, old wooden boats half buried in the sand and
metal storage tanks. At the far end was the derelict aircraft hanger and
buildings from the abandoned British Research Station. There was also
Due to from sub-terrain thermal heat
the water is supposedly relatively warm and we were challenged to go in
for a swim. Aye right! - I'd already made a few experiments and discovered
the layer of warm water ended about 6 inches below the surface. I
graciously declined the challenge, and instead enjoyed myself taking
photographs of the more foolhardy discovering this for themselves after
Back on the "Shokalskiy" one of the tour
guides offered to lend me a memory card for the duration of the trip, so
that was my SLR up and running again.
Friday 9th: Didn't keep a log for this day
I must confess - by now I was too much into just enjoying every moment of
this once in a lifetime experience to be bothered with such trivialities.
And far too tired in the evening also.
Saturday 10th: We got up at 06.30 hrs and out on
deck to see a massive iceberg floating past about 30 metres away. It was
colder now and the terrain was truly magnificent everything covered in white snow and ice with
outcrops. Also there was a lot of loose ice in the water. We anchored at 08.00
Zodiac-ed to Dacro Island. We climbed
up the glacier for about half an hour to the summit (I only fell once).
This was truly magnificent; completely ice covered and with panoramic
views in all directions. Occasionally there would be a noise like
artillery fire as pieces of ice slew off into the sea. And the perfect
backdrop to take lots of photographs of each other striking heroic (?)
poses with flags and other such nonsense. The most remarkable thing
happened while we were Zodiac-ing back to the ship when a huge (about 12
feet) Leopard Seal started playing with our zodiac; swimming round and
under the boat again and again and even partially leaping out the water in
front of us. We could have stayed there watching it all day, except the
rest of the party marooned on the shore got a bit mutinous after a while.
In the afternoon we stopped off at Port
Lockroy in the Neumayer Channel. This was once a British Antarctica Base,
later abandoned. However, when the UK realised that under the Antarctic
Treaty they were responsible for clearing the site it was listed as an
Historic Site (No. 61), and turned into a museum, under the control of the
UK Antarctic Heritage Trust. It was very interesting, the volunteers,
showed us round the station, reconstructed as it was when operational and
we could also send postcards home from the most Southerly Post Office in
the World. (It's also probably the World's slowest as mail takes on
average 6 weeks to 3 months to deliver which is understandable).
Sunday 11th: Again no log. No doubt
because after a day spent climbing glaciers, chasing whales in rubber boats and communing with
seals and penguins I was too busy to spend precious time scribbling in a notebook.
Monday 12th: This was
supposed to be our last full day in Antarctica before
the return voyage across "The Drake" - although the weather
forecast said that this time it would be relatively calm. I got up at 05.30;
the ship was proceeding up
the Lemaire Channel. It was extremely cold and the visibility low so I took a couple of
photos then went back to bed until breakfast at 08.30 hrs. At 10.00 hrs we took
the Zodiacs to Useful Island; a change of plan due to the weather. It was
a considerable scramble to the top where lots of penguins were sheltering.
Afterwards we went on a long Zodiac cruise round the ice-bergs.
In the afternoon we had a really spectacular trip in
the Zodiacs. From as close as was safe we watched and listened to an enormous ice cave in the throws of collapse, then
we chased Humpbacked Whales out into the heaving, open sea. It was
extremely cold and windy but I got some brilliant video. However back on the ship I then proceeded to
accidentally format my memory card and lost the lot! This did little for
my previously buoyant spirits although I was told it
possible to recover the video back in the UK. However that meant that another memory card
was out of action. I replaced it with the card in my mobile phone -
mobiles being of little use in Antarctica. We began the trip home in
late afternoon but had to return to anchorage after half an hour due to
engine problems. So I was glad I had the foresight to give 24 hours leeway before
my flight to Buenos Aires.
Tuesday 13th: A frustrating
day. We began heading back to Ushuaia but only at about 6 knots - around
half speed. We had a meeting in the bar: it seemed we would not now arrive
back for another three to four days which put my Atacama Desert plans in
doubt. Otherwise it was a
relaxing and uneventful day mainly spent whale and penguin watching on the
bridge. The Drake was fortunately very calm for a change.
Wednesday 14th: We had
another briefing in the morning where we were told we would be making an
attempt at full speed later in the afternoon.
this didn't work and we ended up stuck at about 8 knots on one engine. At
least I was resigned now to missing my connecting flights and put my name
down for rescheduling of airfares. The Drake Passage was still in an
almost unheard of state of calm.
Thursday 15th: As per
yesterday. We were now on schedule to arrive back in Ushuaia at around
23.00 hrs on the Friday night (so I'd definitely missed all my onward
flights). Actually myself, and the rest of the passengers were beginning
to enjoy the experience of slowly crawling our way across this vast
expanse of inhospitable ocean. Today was Sir Ernest Shakleton's birthday, we had a
toast and a Shakelton quiz in the evening.
Friday 16th: I woke up to see land on the
port side. By evening we had entered the Beagle Canal. However as we
couldn't make port in the dark we anchored until morning.
Saturday 17th/Sunday 18th: We had berthed
by the time I woke up. After breakfast I was in two minds as to what to do
I had had my flight to Buenos Aires rescheduled for the
but that would mean me missing my onward flight to Chile, making it
pointless with the time left to try and make it to the Atacama. Another
possibility was to fly to Punta Arinas in Southern Chile and then onwards
to Santiago and Calama. I went ashore and made a phone call to LAN Chile
Airlines but all they could tell me
was that there were no seats left on the afternoon flight from Punta Arinas (Chile) to Santiago and anyway, all their computers were down. I
remembered this last bit; it could prove useful later. I went into
Ushuaia, sent some brief emails intimating my return to dry land, then
went back to the ship.
I decided to go out to the airport anyway,
after a lot of bluffing (after all, the airlines computers were down), I
managed to get a last minute seat on the Ushuaia to Punta Arinas flight.
So far so good. Arriving in Punta Arinas, as I expected, there were no
seats available on the Santiago leg - the next seats were not available
until the three o'clock in the morning flight which wasn't for another 14
hours. By now I was in company with two women from Alaska. Ironically they
had come all the way to Ushuaia for the next expedition (now of course
cancelled) on my ship! Fortunately they were taking it philosophically and
were all set to come back again the following year. Rather than get a hotel, the three of us hung about the terminal for the duration; it passed
quickly enough and we got the flight to Santiago (I had to pay up front
but knew the tour company would refund it), and got to Santiago by early
morning. LAN Chile accepted my story that I
had cancelled the next flight (after
all their computers had been down) and rescheduled me on a flight to Calama
However that left me with 9 hours to kill so I decided to get the airport
bus into Santiago for the morning.
This was a mistake. I'd been in
Santiago before and should have remembered that this was a Sunday mornings
and the good people of Santiago take their Sundays very seriously. After
wandering about for hours and finding nothing of any note (except
MacDonald's) open I gave up. So I got a taxi back to the airport.
By the time my flight arrived in Calama it
was about 8 o'clock at night. I had thought of staying there overnight and
heading into San Pedro in the morning but there was a mini-bus going to
San Pedro in an hour. I caught that and got to San Pedro about 10 o'clock.
pitch dark, I had nowhere to stay but fortunately the first place I tried
was able to offer a small, ultra-basic room round the back. By now I had
been on the road for about 40 hours and would have accepted a roost in a
chicken coop. for the night. But at least I had made it.
Monday 19th: It was a beautiful, hot,
sunny day outside. Looking at my room I decided that perhaps I would stay
here for the duration after all. Basic, yes. luxurious, no, amenities
none, but it was how I used to travel years ago. Perhaps I'd been getting
soft in recent years? So I stayed.
Monday 19th: I got up late
and went for a walk around town/ A few days ago I had been on the
Antarctic Circle, now I was in the tropics and it was extremely hot. I
sent some emails home to explain where I was, that I was still alive etc,
and despite the terrible internet connection which was to plague me for
the next few days, managed to get them sent eventually. San Pedro was just
as I had remembered it from three years earlier, hot, dry dusty and salty.
In the afternoon I signed up for a 4X4 trip out into the desert and even
went for a swim, or rather a float in the a saline lake. Unfortunately my
lack of Spanish let me down and not understanding the warning shouts
to climb out the lake only to discover the rim was a mass of razor-sharp
salt crystals. I ended up standing in the
sun dripping a mixture of salt water and blood!
Tuesday 20th: I was picked up early (at
least I was early, the mini-bus was an hour late), for a full days
excursion to the high Altiplano. I'd done this on my last visit
so knew what to expect, a very long drive through ever changing landscape
to the most spectacular turquoise blue lakes with a backdrop of
snow-capped volcanoes. On the way back we stopped of at a small restaurant
for a meal and also at the old Spanish town of Toconao. Later, in the evening, I went
out for a meal with some of the people on my tour
Wednesday 21st: A very early start to see
the sunrise over the Tatio Geysers. Actually it was very cold at first and
I regretted not wearing a pullover. The geysers themselves were quite a
distance from San Pedro and it was pitch dark when we got there. After an
hour or so stumbling about in the dark, making sure I didn't put my foot
through the thin crust into the boiling water below, it rapidly became
light and more importantly warm. On the way back we stopped at a small
village (population 70) whose thatched cottages none the less managed to
have a solar panels on each roof as well as a beautiful old
church. In the afternoon I began planning how to get back to Santiago for
my flight home and managed to get a good contact (eventually) with a local
I was meant to go for a tour of the Valle de
la Luna (Valley of the Moon) and the Valle de la Meutre (Death Valley) in
the evening but misunderstood the arrangements. Actually I spent an hour
standing outside my hotel waiting to be collected, while the actual tour
was gathering outside the operator's premises, not 50 metres round the
corner! As a result I missed it.
Thursday 22nd: I went back to the company
organising my Valley of the Moon trip who arranged for me to go on the one
that evening instead. They also organised a flight for me from Calama to
Santiago for Friday. After lunch I organised a bus ticket from San Pedro
to Calama before my tour (from the correct place this time).
The highlight of this trip was when standing
at the top of Death Valley, looking down the seemingly sheer precipice to
the bottom, a long, long way below, our guide informed us we were going to
descend it. How? Jump! And he wasn't joking. Actually it was quite simple.
You just took off your shoes, jumped into the seeming abyss only to
discover the sides were fine sand. You just kept jumping and sliding and
gravity did the rest - the whole experience was very exhilarating,
presumably even more so for one member of our group who fell over and
ended up somersaulting his way to the bottom.
Eventually we climbed up to the top of a rock
and sand dune formation where a couple of hundred people had gathered to
watch a very beautiful and dramatic sunset over the Atacama.
Friday 23rd: My last day in San Pedro.
I decided not to go horse riding in case I didn't get home in time for my
bus. Instead I had
a last walk round town then caught the coach
Calama, a taxi to the airport and the flight to Santiago. By now it
was about nine thirty in the evening and with all the accommodation
offices shut took a chance from one of the touts (but made sure it was one
who was allowed to operate inside the terminal). It paid off and for a
ridiculously cheap price, ended up installed in a good hotel in central
Santiago in less than forty minutes. Being my first proper accommodation
for over a week, I had a long bath, ( I had run out of razor blades
but never mind) and a good sleep in a big, double bed.
Saturday 24th: I got up reasonably early,
took a walk around central Santiago, posted some cards, bought a razor,
took some photographs and after shaving and checking out, got a taxi to
the airport. I caught the 14 hour flight to Madrid which was even more
hellish than the outward journey. Once again the in-flight TV screen was a
dot in the distance and my headphones were again broken. Iberia had certainly
knocked KLM off my top position of long-haul airlines to be avoided at all costs.
Sunday 25th: I arrived in Madrid airport
at about dawn. After negotiating the confusing signposting and repetitive
security checks, I eventually made my connection to London. Heathrow. The fact
that there was only one x-ray scan in operation at security for ALL
transfer flights at Heathrow meant I only just made my Glasgow connection.
I eventually got into
Glasgow Airport in the early afternoon and got a bus and train to my house.
Seventeen hours later I was back at Glasgow Airport again, but alas, to
work this time.