Planes, trains, autombiles #2

So. I left it where I'd landed in Brunei. The guy across the aisle on the plane had just poked me.
As my bleary eyes refocused and my body went into aggression mode (I'm not good first thing in the mornings) I kinda growled "What?"

He cheerfully said "You slept the whole flight! How did you manage that? I wish I could sleep on flights!"

He was so jovial and I'm so grumpy in the mornings I just paused. I looked at him and realised he was wearing a penguin suit - not literally dressed as an Arctic bird but wearing a proper black suit, white shirt, bow tie, etc. "Why are you dressed that way?" I ask him. He just laughs and enquires again how I slept so well. I'm still feeling dazed so I ask again why he's dressed like a freak. He sits back slightly and I then notice a chick in full bridal dress sat next to him.

It turns out they'd just got married (No shit, eh?) and this flight was taking them on a four week honeymoon around the UK.

We got chatting and by the time we pulled up at the terminal I'd explained my plans of taking a taxi tour of Brunei and they'd explained there plans of finding a cheap hotel to consumate their marriage. Who can blame them? We did have a 16 hour transit ahead and I'd rather he took care of business in a hotel room.

I bid them farewell after passport control and went outside to find a taxi. I waited. And waited. And waited. An hour later they emerged from the airport (Bride was Chinese and needed a visa). They explained they'd been talking in the queue and decided a tour of Brunei would be better than shagging in a hotel which they could do anytime, anywhere.

I explained that there seemed to be a shortage of taxis and the guy, Davo, went off to investigate. He returned 10 minutes later and said he'd been to tourist information. It was a public holiday in Brunei but a bus was due at 9am which took people on a 2 hour tour for $20. We got some brekky and waited for that. The tour was pretty good but we really didn't want
to head back to the airport at 11am and wait another 12 hours for our flight. We asked the driver to drop us in the city and said we'd get a taxi back.

Then he dropped a minor bombshell.

Guess how many taxis there are in Brunei? The whole of the country?

Bet you're wrong.

I bet you're still wrong, lower it some more.

8.

I kid you not, a whole 8. No wonder I'd waited so bloody long for one at the airport!
However, the tour bus driver was willing to take $20 to come and collect us from the city centre about 4pm. Nice man.

I spent the next to flights with Davo and bride, we got on well. On the final leg he explained that he was heading for Watford and that they were planning to get a train. He knew I had a hire car waiting and was going to drive past Watford on my way home. While I was more than happy to give them a lift I explained that the car I'd hired was of minimum size so it may be a struggle to fit three of us, plus xmas baggage into it. He offered to pay for an upgrade so we headed for the car hire desk in London.

Luckily I'd booked the car through a friend that works for the hire company and he'd wangled me a massive upgrade. I drove home in a high class car rather than an economy one. It's true what they say, it's not what you know, it's who you know.

The drive to Watford and home was pretty uneventful apart from a stop off to see a very good friend en route.

Now, onto trains...

On the first day of my trip I took a train to the local city. We bought return tickets. On the way back the ticket inspector didn't even bother to show his face. What a bloody rip. I felt dirty.

A few days later I had to get a train from the city to my home town. This used to cost 3.60GBP. Imagine my reaction when the guy asked for 5GBP. And on a Sunday! In Brissy public transport is cheaper at weekends! I told him I only wanted a single ticket, not shares in the company. He grumpily replied "It's 5 and if you give me any more of that I'll report you for abuse of staff." Fuck. It's cunts like that who make me SO happy I now live 10000 miles away.

That put me off trains.

Automobiles

When the sad day came for me to leave the UK I'd booked a hire car through my mate again. I took him a couple of packets of cigars as thanks for the upgrades and savings. So far as his company know I'm his brother.

I picked up the vehicle and rather than being given a key it was a thick credit card kind of affair. Rental guy gave me a run down that basically consisted of getting in the car with me, saying "Read that", and pointing at the scrolling text on a screen on the dash.

"Insert card" it said. Hmm. Rental guy pointed to a recess in the dash board. Just over towards the passenger side. Hmm.

Obvious. Who'd put it in the traditional ignition key area?

"Depress brake pedal" scroll screen said. I got down and told it it's mum had died and it was about to have it's house repossessed. Nothing happened so I told it all radio stations have elected to play nothing but Paris Hilton records. It became depressed.

The scrolly thing then told me to "Depress brake pedal" I done that.

"Press Start" it says. Fuck me. Did Bill Gates have something to do with designing this car? I press start and all is good. It goes like a normal car. I drive home to say bye to parents. On the way I decide to stop at the clifftop for a smoko. The car kindly tells me how to stop it's engine. When I don't it warns me after about a minute that I'm producing carbon emissions and don't appear to be moving. I turn the fucking thing off before it lectures me anymore.

I then need to open the window. Umm. Dead. In a normal car you can turn the ignition key to step 1 or 2 to gain access to such facilities. How do you do that with card car? Couldn't fucking answer me that one could it? So I start it up, lower the window, and turn it off again. Then start lecturing it that it's just caused more of a carbon foot print cos it couldn't tell me how to open the fucking window without turning it fully on.

At this point I realised I was ranting at a car and felt silly. But at least I was right and it was wrong.

Dreading stalling at a junction on the M25 I took it down to London Heathrow. Along the way I couldn't help thinking why they'd done this to a car? I wonder how many drivers had actually called th manufacturer and said "You know? That deal with putting a key into the ignition and turning is so difficult"? I mean, I find it tough but I keep a handy guide with me at all times:

"Insert key, turn" incase I forget.

I think this was definitely a step too far.

Planes revisited

The journey back was less eventful. Unless you consider arriving at Heathrow airport to be told your ticket is not valid. You should have been on yesterdays flight. Sorry sir, you gotta book and pay again. Hmmm. Glad I printed that docket. The long and heated conversation that followed can be summarised thus:

Me: "Your problem, you sort it"
Them: [almost an hour later] "Yes sir. Sorry sir."

We hit big turbulence somewhere near the middle east. The guy two rows ahead of me obviously didn't go a lot on Allahs plane saving skills so he shit himself instead.

Literally.

The gangway chicks fixed him up with clean pants but he still made the place smell bad for the remaining hour and a half before Dubai.

For some reason I didn't care too much.