Having landed in London after my 11 flight from Hong Kong, I took a much-needed shower in the arrivals lounge before crossing from Heathrow Terminal 3 to 5, where I found the place buzzing with men donned in traditional Scottish regalia. I soon found out that they were all bound for Prague.
At the gate, where we waited to board the flight, I asked a group of these tartan clad chaps why they were travelling on this flight. I felt rather foolish, when they told me that Scotland was playing the Czech Republic in a Euro 2012 qualification match. They were hoping that their national side could reverse their disappointing form.
Funnily enough, after boarding the flight, the Cabin Service Director announced on the public address system that someone had left their single malt whisky at the door of the aircraft. Even I raised my hand to claim the bottle, amid roars of laughter. Goodness know how, but the booze make it back to its rightful owner.
It was a lively and happy flight. I honestly say that I have never been on board a plane with so many men in kilts. But I am delighted to report that I didn’t get any visual confirmation that they don’t wear underwear under their tartan skirts.
In the midst of this tartan army, I spotted a young couple with what looked like a very newborn baby. Needless to say, your father enquired as to the age of this little thing. He was just six weeks old, a little younger than you, my darling Yael. And I am happy to report that this baby, who had travelled all the ways from Toronto in Canada, was quite content throughout the flight, including during the ascent and descent. Let's hope that you are as nonchalent about flying, when you travel to London with your mother and father next week. Your first time on a plane.
Grandpa Jonathan
Prague, Czech Republic
