I can't let yesterday's journey go unremarked. Flying to London from Glasgow should be a scoosh - right? Well, we did indeed scoosh along the M8 in the driving rain, and scooshed into the airport from the inadequately covered walkway provided at Glasgow for courtesy bus passengers - but there the scooshing ended. Our flight had been cancelled. (I've just discovered an email telling me of this. A tad late.) Actually it wasn't quite as final as it sounds- we were hustled onto a BMI flight and left 45 minutes earlier than scheduled. Only snag? Actually there were two, but the greatest was that we were now heading for Heathrow, not Gatwick. (The lesser was the absence of complimentary food) Had we been making a connection at Gatwick, we'd have been in trouble - they told us we could go in a complimentary bus and it'd take an hour, but having seen the traffic on the M25 I hae ma doots. However, we were being met by a saint who came all the way out to Heathrow instead. Phew.
I had a hilarious conversation on the plane, however. The Scandinavian woman next to me had no hand luggage at all - just a wallet. I commented on her travelling light - to be told that actually she'd had a cabin bag but hadn't been allowed to bring it into the cabin as she had holy oils in it. She had remonstrated - presumably in her socks, as you have to put your shoes through security - with the staff, but they were unimpressed. (You can't be effective in your socks. Really.) No holy oil allowed.
In fact, it looks as if religion and flying just don't mix. Any angels out there?