Plane fascinating

Yesterday Lyn decided that our host, unlike his wife, lacked social skills. That was until breakfast today. Lyn expressed an interest in otters and he was a man transformed. He went from tongue-tied rustic to David Attenborough in a few seconds. I managed to drag Lyn away before the moles discussion moved to any more fauna. 

When we left Hay it was raining. We drove south through the Brecon Beacons which were now shrouded in fog and cloud. We turned east at Newport and crossed the  mighty bridge over the Severn estuary. From there it was a boring run along the M4 to Heathrow. Every 45 minutes we stopped to stretch or refuel ourselves or the Hyundai. We dropped the luggage at the airport Hotel (the Thistle), returned the car to Avis, got the Avis bus to the airport and then (eventually after a comedy of misdirections) caught a shuttle bus back to the hotel. Our flight to Venice tomorrow will take less time than than it took to return to our hotel.

Dinner at the hotel restaurant was a buzz. The restaurant looks out over one of Heathrow’s two major runways. In the twilight it was being used for landings. A succession of aircraft in various liveries floated down at very close range. We were like kids. “That’s a big one! Look, that little one is from Lebanon. Ooh! Is that an A380?” On the terrace outside two plane spotters ate their dinner while checking their phones, writing in notebooks and taking photos. 

You can probably guess what happened next. Dinner finished, Lyn scuttled outside to talk to the nice men. In no time she had them explaining apps, aircraft, registration numbers, good plane-spotter venues and their life stories. I was actually a little worried that they were so keen to explain these arcane mysteries to Lyn that they might miss something crucial. I really don’t know who was more fascinated.