there are so many fragments of latinate languages that i wonder if the arabs were not right to preserve their holy language at the expense of the venacular. I strain and my brain gets muddled as some kid is speaking to me in portuguese and the girl seated next to me tries to answer in italian....since i had just failed to make myself understood to the kid in french....the kid is walking around with her bear and whe wants to seat him between us but the bear is big and so is our luggage....in the end we accommodate the bear for a lack of an apporopriate means of refusing.
there is an FCUK in stansted to my surprise so i kill some minutes in there...but i havent got enough cash on me to do serious damage. stansted is way better than luton or beauvais (but then what could be worse than beauvais?)
the plane is stuffed with the predicatable portuguese gastarbeiters combined with plump british girls going on holiday with their pudgy punk dandies. at least half of the british guys pull a beer out of the jackets as the sit down on the plane....they then get progressively louded throughout the flight, as do the children of whom there are far too many....one of the little english brats wont stop howling and i have a fantasy of chucking him out the window....
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