In the haaaaauuuus

My fears of not leaving (that was some storm on Monday night - sorry Hongkongers didn't get a T8, but I was very thankful to take off not too much after the scheduled time) were unfounded. I left home around 10pm, got on the MTR and pulled out my knitting, much to the amusement of my fellow passengers. What's so weird about knitting in public? NOTHING, I tell you. It is an excellent way of passing the time, and very soothing. I continued while waiting by the gate. Boarded plane and took off. Not a particularly exciting first half - watched Letters from Juliet, tried to watch Shrek 4 but fell asleep, landed in Doha at 5am.

If we think HK is a shoppers' paradise, we have a lot to learn from the Middle East. Got through transit to find the massive duty free shop open - at 5.30am. None of this closing because it's not regular working hours. Pish. If you arrive in an airport in the middle of the night, you should be able to buy Touche Eclat or Johnny Walker Blue Label. I mean, come on. It's only sensible.

Anyway.

It was really nice/surreal/memory-inducing being back in the Middle East. I felt a bizarre urge to bend and touch the ground when I got off the plane, an urge I managed to surpress (don't want the random shouty mainlanders judging me, after all). (Speaking of mainlanders, what is with the need to speak at the top of your voice to someone standing 20 cm away? Especially at 5am when nobody around you has had very much sleep.) Nice to see all the Arabic, and hear the odd word I recognised. OK, number. Made me wish I'd had a more inspriring Arabic teacher than Mrs Salama. Who was rubbish. Actually not as bad as the one at secondary school - all I remember doing in her class was watching Lawrence of Arabia. Hmm.

Onto the second plane, and it was pretty empty, meaning I got two seats to myself. But no sleep. Instead I watched Diary of a Wimpy Kid, Date Night and Heartbreaker. And several episodes of Big Bang Theory. Which is not actually as good as the time I gave it would suggest.

All of this is really not very interesting or important. This is about London, and I should really get a move on!

I got to London, got through immigration incredibly quickly (hurrah for Gatwick!) and headed to Victoria to meet Tash. It was so nice to see her - but she was on the phone to my mum - who didn't know when I was arriving, and I'd come a few days early so I'd be here for her birthday -and Tash had to tone the excitement down. More on that later...

We walked to Pimlico, dragging the suitcase behind us. As we left Victoria, we were accosted by people giving away free tuna - ended up with about 15 cans of John West which should keep Matt in sandwiches for a couple of days! We walked past a gorgeous little sweet shop, right next to a gorgeous cheese shop - I forget how many lovely little boutiquey fooderies there are in London. I get so excited. I really need to spend some time just looking in them, absorbing them. That's something I really miss in HK, the availability of great quality foods from all around the world. Or at least, at a halfway decent price, rather than having to take out a mortgage to try a cheese...

The rest of the day was spent looking at photos from Tash and Matt's blessing on Saturday - they were SO lucky with the weather - sitting out in the Bessborough Place gardens, and then, when Matt got home, eating a delicious dinner. Tash cooked sauteed spring greens, green lentils and "white fish" in an incredibly mild curriedness. After my fourth or fifth cup of tea, I fell asleep on the sofa while watching CSI: NY and realised it was probably way past my bedtime.