Hello to all my fellow forumite from which ever lonely computer screen you may be.
I'm starting a travel log and I thought I might as well share, for those who are interested in the read. Hopefully this can help me unwind and collect my many meandering thoughts as I trudge my way on the slightly rough, unfamiliar road to World Cup glory in the name of the Trinity hills.
I hope you are all faring well, I on the other hand am having quite a hard one here in the old English isle. It has certainly been a steady intrigue.
Well, having slept 5 hours the night before, I set off for my 6 30 flight from Piarco, Trinidad to Heathrow, England. Leaving home at 3 we got there at 4 o clock sharp ("we" being my father and I)---(yes I have dragged him into this madness) We were a few minutes late and arrived at St.Lucia to pick up the main crowd. Soon every seat was taken by the troops of the old Bar-my army, most covered in English colours. A Michael Owen shirt being brandished occasionally with a cheeky smile to be next brandished almost mockingly as I sat there with my own #19 T&T shirt.
I was put next to a pleasant English woman who obviously meant well however was painfully boring and insufferably talkative (she actually reminded me of one of those large, deadly Komodo Dragons you would occasionally see Steve Erwin tangoing with on the National Geographic channel)---(she certainly had the breath to go along with it)
Behind me, was seated alittle girl about 5 I would presume... she cried and screamed and wailed for about 3 of the 10 hours. The lady next to me talked for at least 5 of those 10 hours before passing out from what I thought must have been a heart act from shortness of breath after lambassing me with what must have been enough breath to keep an old man on a ventalator for at least a day or two. ( I of course at that point was thrilled at the hours of silence to come)
However then the baby started wailing and I had no hope of sleeping and I was livid despite the fact I already knew I probably wouldn't have gotten to sleep anyway. Oh well.
On arrival to Heathrow, light was creeping through my window and I couldn't help but feel a wave of optimism bowl me over. Joy seething threw me, relief warming my weary heart, enthusiasm brewing within me.
As you can imagine we hurried off the flight. My father collected a fast lane pass from a flight attendant as we exited. (My mother was a BWIA flight attendant for 25 years so she organized this momentous ease up) As we rushed through to the immigration line guess who we pulled up just behind in the fast lane.
T&T's former Priminister,
Basdeo Panday. As you could imagine my father and I had a right laugh. How funny. From behind bars to behind the stars.
Well. We got through to the lugage carousels and sure enough there again he was right beside us this time... we had gone down a little further to give him a little bad talk as we were also eager to get our bags quickly and leave (I had been up for 40 hours at this point having not slept two nights in a row and my father couldn't have been too different)
Well. We noticed "
The Old Baz" (what we now almost affectionately refereed to him as) was having a good bit of trouble with his 6 very large bags.
Seeing as we knew he had health problems and no matter what he was PM of the country we so loved. We flew into action.
We took 5 of his 6 bags off the Turnstile. He smiled at us heartily and thanked us graciously and we exchanged goodlucks and that was it. Really funny how things turn out. One minute your cursing him behind his back, the other your helping him take his bags off a turnstile) (laughing to myself here)
I lugged my two heavy bags and my particularly heavy pan case out to the car where my kind but throughly confused aunt came out to greet us. (We were both extremely tired)
The drive home was pleasant and I noticed that despite the fact that quite a few cars had england flags on it... In Trinidad I would say you would see a car with flags every 5-10 cars that would pass you) So that little feeling of Unity gave me Little bit more strength to push on and not to fall asleep grimly while on the way to the house while we still had to take all the million and one things out and unpack. (sigh)
It was quite hard really... In the end I had been up for
50 hours having not slept in two days strait.... but after 17 hours of sleep I was ready to go again. We went out for an exercises and the weather was perfect... In full tracksuits with nothing but an under vest on underneath we headed off on a 1 mile run down to the nearest Town where we purchased england slippers and an imitation teamgeist WC football.
What was most interesting was...The clerk who is an avid england supporter said that he desperately tried to get Trinidad and Tobago official Adidas supporter shirts however he was told they were all gone.
sold out.He said if he would have got as few as a hundred of them he would have made an immense profit.Â
 We ran back home had a shower and were off once again.
Traveling south east we arrived at my uncles where we would meet the "Trinimobile" Caravan we were using to drive to Germany. I was smiling jubilantly as I looked it over... quite shabby inside but it was draped in Trini flags... after I gave it a through washing that lasted a good hour it looked simply brandnew. I was quite proud of my work.
My uncle then laughed and exclaimed "now you can cut the back lawn!"
We'll I am now off to bed.. Its dover in the morning then France then Amsterdam to hook up with the infamous TI.
Again, I hope you are all well. I'm ready for a good rest. Goodnight to you all.
