Guess what happened to me today…

One of the major perks of being a freelance journo is the travel writing that I get to do. I love it! Who wouldn’t? Antigua, Miami, cruises, boot camps… it’s all been super fun.

So this is the thing. I was asked to write a feature on honeymoon destinations in Malta for a wedding publication I write for, and I was thrilled! So thrilled that when I received my itinerary, in my fuzzy ‘I’m going to Malta!!!!!’ rush I failed to read the check-in time properly. When I read 6.30, I didn’t see the ‘PM’ on the line below (my printer is naff). So I assumed it read 6.30am.

Has anyone ever spent 12 hours in an airport terminal for no apparent reason? The clue is in the word ‘terminal’. And what makes it worse is that it’s a direct result of my phenomenal dizziness. I really need to wake up sometimes.

So, to alleviate my boredom I’m going to describe, in minute detail, exactly what happened to me today whilst waiting in Terminal 4 of Heathrow airport. Prepare to be thrilled out of your mind…

5.45am

Leave easyHotel for airport. Oh yeah, I was soooo orgnaised that I booked a hotel to stay in the night before, just so I could start my exciting day of airport fun as early as humanly possible. Go me.

6.00am

Worry that there is no check-in desk open for Air Malta, despite my CLEARLY STATED departure time of 6.30.

6.15am

Ask Airport Ticket Services yet again why, despite the eTicket I was holding in my very hand, was there no airplane to take me to Malta? Airport Ticket Services look at me like I’m mad. I don’t know why. They are the mad ones.

6.30am

Decide that my eTicket is wrong, and aim to try and hop on the 10.50am Malta flight anyway, because that is the only flight to Malta listed on the Check-in information board.

6.31am

Find a spare seat, open laptop. Do work.

6.34am

Decide to have a cup of tea to calm down at Café Rouge instead. Then, having ordered said cup of tea, panic and cancel order. Run back to Air Malta check-in desk.

6.36am

Get told by staff not to come back until 8.30am.

6.40am

Too embarrassed to go back to Café Rouge. Decide to hide behind Airport Ticket Services instead. Open laptop, do some work.

8.30am

Go to check in. Refrain from calling the head of Air Malta and the Press Office due to niggling suspicion that something isn’t quite right. Thankfully there is quite a queue, confirming that there is indeed a flight to Malta from Terminal 4.

8.42am

Hand in passport, hand over suitcase, looking forward to being on a beach in Malta within hours. Only to be told very kindly by the bemused attendant that my flight isn’t due to take off until 8.30pm.

8.43am

Pick myself off the floor, die a thousand deaths, apologise and quietly head back to Café Rouge to deal with my idiocy. Hope they don’t spit in my tea.

8.50 – 10.50am

Comfort-eat for a couple of hours. Drink about 10 pints of coffee. Start to feel trippy. The staff keep coming across to ask if I’m okay. It’s nice that they care about my wellbeing. Do some more work on laptop. Thank the Lord for Wi Fi. Even if it costs £1,000,000 per minute.

11.00am

Brave the toilets. They smell of wee and there was a used sanitary towel on the floor of one of the cubicles. I want to cry.

11.01am

Find a nice corner. Open laptop. Work. Decide that I will not waste today and will be super-productive.

13.00pm

Get distracted by two Nigerians who are talking loudly about oil, telecommunications and religion. Which is what it’s all about at the end of the day, I guess.

14.30pm

Walk outside for some fresh air where everyone was smoking. Watch an airplane rev its engines. Went back inside.

14.35pm

Notice that there are only two shops in Terminal 4: a WH Smith and a luggage shop. Got worried that I found this really, really interesting.

14.45pm

Focused on work again, which was hard because I was bordering on the edge of hysteria by this point.

15.00pm

My mum calls me to see how things are going. We had a good old laugh at how silly I am. I laugh far too long and loudly. People start to stare and edge away.

16.00pm

Go outside, look at a bird. Go back inside.

16.05pm

Back in Café Rouge. Start laughing at my own internal dialogue. Out loud.

16.10pm

If I was an item of luggage, what item would I be and why?

16.30pm

Any thought about leaving Terminal 4 makes me afraid. I belong here. I don’t want to leave. Ever. This is my home now.

16.45pm

Brave the toilets again. Offensive used feminine hygiene product has been removed. I don’t envy the cleaners.

17.00pm

Back in Café Rouge. More coffee. Not really a good idea but at least I’ve not hit the bottle. Yet.

17.25pm

When I shut my eyes I can see suitcases and suitcase trolleys.

17.30pm

Check in!!!!!!!!! Now to wait three more hours for the flight…

There you go. I hope you enjoyed reading about my day as much as I enjoyed experiencing it…

How to make whiskey chicken, and survive...

Hello! I've been on a blogging hiatus but I've been getting the itch and feel that I ought to start blogging again.

But where does one pick up after such a long time? One picks up by writing about food, obviously! So, for your pleasure here is my recipe for Whiskey Chicken.


I made it up this very afternoon, and it was so delicious I ended up eating all of it. An entire crock-pot-for-one full. And I don't feel remotely guilty.

Ingredients

• Three skinned chicken thighs, preferably free range or organic (you can buy cheap high quality poultry from the nearly-out-of-date shelf in Tesco and freeze it).
• Two sticks of celery, chopped into large chunky bits
• A handful of lentils, barley and dried peas
• Half a red onion
• Half a leek
• About four cloves of garlic
• Chicken stock
• Creole spice, smoked paprika
• Sea salt to taste
• 300 mls of water
• One teaspoon of flour to thicken
• One tablespoon of whiskey
  
• Eye of newt hair of cat, etc. (not really)
  

Instructions

1. Plug in and switch on Slow Cooker, low heat. This is important.
2. Make sure the chicken has no fat or skin (otherwise it melts, and in a slow cooker this is grim grim grim), then chop into 1 inch pieces
   
3. Bung everything into the pot
   
4. Add the water, stock, spices and whiskey
   
5. Give it a stir
   
6. Leave for 6-8 hours
7. Stir again, occasionally
   
8. Do not slug whiskey from the bottle whilst the casserole is cooking. You will get drunk and won't appreciate the grub.
9. Serve with hot crusty bread

Serves two, unless you're me and you eat it all at once.

Enjoy!

Sian xxx

Compulsory HIV testing for all. Is this is a good thing?

The government have unveiled new plans to introduce compulsory HIV testing into GPs surgeries over the next few years.

Currently over a quarter of the population may be carrying the HIV virus without realising. Interesting statistic - there is no reference as to where they got the data though. Saying that, I did a quick PubMed search and found this abstract that looks as though it may be the source - it seems as though there is a big push to 'normalise' HIV testing.

Of course there is a moral imperative to provide early diagnosis and treatment of HIV infection, this isn't in dispute. I know first hand what it is like to see a family member die from AIDS and it's pretty horrific. For the record, this instance involved an NHS blunder where a relative was given a blood transfusion after he was hit by a teenage joy rider. The blood was infected with HIV. So I understand the need for treatment, I really do.

But to be forced into having an HIV test has serious implications in terms of insurance and I feel it could encourage discrimination. Possibly.

Currently, if someone chooses to have an HIV test, insurance companies can argue that your lifestyle is dangerous - even if the test is negative - and they can invalidate your insurance. This approach is currently being looked at on account of it being a bit on the draconian side.

But what if everyone was forced to have regular HIV tests? What would happen to those who opted out or refused? Will that effect their insurance adversely?

Secondly, this pilot scheme will initially target at-risk populations - people who are black, people who are gay, etc - but will this lead to discrimination?

I'm unsure what I think about this - I know there's a desperate need for early diagnosis, but it's the 'compulsory' bit that jars I guess...

R-R-R-Radio!

This Wednesday I had the pleasure of interviewing the Urban Folk Quartet when they played The Grand in Clitheroe live for The Drift on BBC Radio Lancashire.

They raised the roof and managed to convert half the audience into full on folkies. People walked into the the room reasonably trendy and came out telling people to 'Folk off and get yer own ale mug!' Such was the power of the band.



Anyway, the recording of their live performance will go out on The Drift next Friday from 8pm. But in the meantime you can listen to my take on the gig on BBC iPlayer (the piece starts at 21.30 mins into the programme)...

Enjoy!

Sian xx

Shoplifters of the World Unite: My morning rant

Has anyone seen this article about the rise of the middle class shoplifter? In a nutshell, the recession has hit middle class households in the South a lot harder than everyone else - because let's face it, they and the ultra rich bankers (and MPs) seem to be the only people who benefited from the 'Good Times'. Those in the lower socio-economic strata can't lose what they never had.



I can back up my statement with my own experience in London. I was earning a decent living as an editor, but was crippled by back-breaking debt. Like many people my age and in my situation (there were a lot of us) I couldn't afford to live anywhere half decent, so I paid stupid rent to live in Dickensian slums - with other professionals. The last house I was in looked like Fred West's from the outside (minus the corpses), the landlord was probably a criminal, and no matter how much you cleaned it, it always looked grimy and filthy. Everything was broken, the carpets were worn through and tatty, the curtains were older than my parents and the plaster work was crumbling off the walls. It stank of dirt and poverty. Yet my housemates included an architect, an environmental health officer and a camera woman. This wasn't unusual - educated, professional young people in ridiculous amounts of debt (thanks to student loans, tuition fees and a government-approved credit card culture that drove the economy up until the Credit Crunch) all living in slums. Very Victorian.

Anyway, I digress...

Why did this article get me thinking? Well, these people who were 'hit hard' by the recession have been shoplifting to maintain their affluent lifestyle. Favourite target stores probably include Waitrose, M&S and Sainsburies. Items no doubt include Tesco's Finest Caremalised Onion Chutney, a selection of olives and cheesy bread sticks, any mid-range perfume and/or Max Factor make-up and probably a nice bottle of Pinot Grigio.

For me, this could be seen as an interesting metaphor for our approach to environmentalism. I was talking to my parents last night about The Great Pacific Garbage Patch. Ever heard of that one? It's an island made of the world's refuse, larger than Continental America, slap bang in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Sailors try to avoid it.



I also read about the Government's plans to force 10 new nuclear power stations onto the UK, whether we want them or not. NO plans for veto from local people and no substantial research by independent bodies (and let's not forget the 'research' that resulted in the Iraq War - I don't trust these politicians as far as I can throw them). And what for?

Fair enough, we need energy to heat out homes and provide electricity and to produce more stuff. Heat and electricity, fine. Producing more stuff though? How much more stuff do we need? We have a continental floating dustbin on our planet full of the stuff we didn't want. Can we afford to produce more? Why not re-use, re-use and re-use? It's what generations did up until around 40 years ago. Forty years of planetary insanity.

So like these middle class shoplifters who steal to maintain their unsustainable lifestyle, we buy into a society that steals resources we can ill afford to keep producing stuff we don't need. And we're going to use the most dangerous, most polluting, uranium-cancer-causing way to do it. At least in the UK. Horrific isn't it.

Twitter tutorial

As promised, here is an online Twitter Tutorial which is very useful for getting started!

How To Use Twitter on Howcast

You can also find out all sorts of interesting hints, tips and tricks at the Twitter How To blog.

So when you're ready to get started, go to www.twitter.com sign up and get started!

And as I mentioned in the presetation, Twitter isn't the only tool out there - there is so much to choose from that will suit you and your business...

Enjoy!

Sian xx