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25/04/2006: "Another day..."

It's 4.40pm at the clock on the wall. My laptop says 3.40pm. I realise my mistake. I'm late, and should have left at 4pm. Local time, not laptop London time. I rush out and jump in a cab. Aziz greets me. I tell Aziz we've got 30min to be at the airport. As he's driving off, he glances at me nervously. I feel we may have a problem. The rush hour traffic is clogging up the roads. I notice Aziz is getting more nervous and keeps changing lanes. As we slowly progress out of the city and onto the highway, minutes are ticking away fast. I ask how much time is left. Again, Aziz glances at me and mumbles something. He asks me if he can light a cigarette. I don't mind. He relaxes a bit, and I flash a smile. We're doing 30km/h at most now, and we're already late.

Then, Aziz then does what I knew Aziz would do best. Aziz moves over to the emergency lane and becomes my favourite cabbie. Instants later, we're off the highway, the airport finally in sight. Aziz asks me when my flight takes off. I try to explain that it's not a normal flight. It won't wait for me. At the airport, I tell Aziz not to stop at the terminal. I need the Jet Centre. But I don't really know where it is. Neither does he. I then tell him to stop, tip him, and run out of the vehicle. I got off too early. I run to a nearby Mercedes and tell the driver to drive me. Finally arrived, I pay him and rush inside the building. Luckily, I'm not too late.

In the waiting lounge, I pretend I'm relaxed and in control now. The customs officer politely checks my passport. I wait briefly, admiring the waiting jet (and taking this picture). Then, I am told the flight is boarding. The passenger arrives. I follow him straight onto the plane and we both board. We greet the crew. I sit down next to him. The powerful jet quickly pins me against the back of my seat and in seconds we're airborne. As we're gliding through the clouds, dinner is served. We chat. I feel good.

The flight ends quickly. The passenger kindly offers me a ride. His driver can drop me off. I decline, I'm going in another direction. I thank him for the comfortable flight. He smiles. As I set off towards the DLR station, waiting for a break in the traffic to cross the road, I instantly become a normal person again.