Well, it's been a fairly long week, and a very arduous weekend. After my last blog post I set sail for Mexico, moreover, I flew premium class with Thomson airways. The taxi driver may well be the most useless person to grace Whipps Cross Cars... First, he was 30 minutes late, which is even more spectacular considering the company base is 3 minutes drive away. Second, he insisted on doing 45kmph on the M23. Third, he was blissfully unaware that he could drive in lanes that were not occupied by the black BMW in front that was going even slower than us.
Check-in was fairly brief, as was security. The flight, however, was intolerable. Mark my words, whatever an airline says about making long-haul journeys pleasurable is utter tosh. The seats were uncomfortable and narrow and they were not suited for somebody of my height. The films kept me mildly entertained, but ultimately nothing can detract from the tedium of 10 hours in the air.
The week itself flew by quickly. The hotel was quite nice... very ornate. The room was large and there was a spot of American television to hold my amusement when I wasn't drinking, eating or swimming. The food was mostly ghastly, but it was free, so no complaints. Ditto with the drink. Mexicans make the worst beer known to man. XX vaguely resembles sewer water in smell, and ordinary water in taste. The beach was fucking gorgeous, as with the pool. The largest downside of the holiday was that I have met my alcohol match. The peach martini that I ordered was too strong for me to finish. That said, it was a Mexican peach martini, and the Mexicans invariably make every food and drink stuff worse (except for tequila, oh lord!)
The flight home was equally taxing and left be jet lagged and with gastroenteritis.