Having just returned from the UK after attending a one-week university course to notch up a few CPD points, coupled with attendance of a friend’s engagement party to gather a few points of the brownie variant, I took today to reflect on my experience and the things I’ve missed, whilst recovering in bed from the after effects of a particularly bad case of man-flu.
It was the first time I’d be back to the UK since 2009 and I was looking forward to the visit. The flight up, Virgin Atlantic naturally, was great; just over 100-odd people on-board the jumbo jet and 3 seats to me, myself and I. I managed a record breaking 7 hours of sleep on the 11 hour flight, dinner, breakfast and 1.75 movies before the plane hit the tarmac at a chilly London Heathrow. Looking out of the window, there was snow covering the airport, my past work stomping ground. The service teams were already out de-icing the scheduled early morning flights and the airport was a hive of activity. Ahhh, the memories.
Determined to not give the impression that I’d turned into a complete sissy during my exposure to ample levels of vitamin D, heat and 360 days of guaranteed sunshine in South Africa, I walked off the plane wearing no more than a t-shirt and a pair of jeans – Who Da Man! I could see that many of the jacketed and gloved Heathrow natives were giving me odd looks (it was -6 degrees Celsius). I was unequivocally still “well ‘aard” (cue the double-arm chest flex), although less so by the time I’d reached the car park. Continue reading