Sometimes I am aware that here on my blog thingy, I always seem to find something wrong with everything. To find discord where there is harmony. To sprinkle a little bit of yak poo over your morning coffee and bagel.
Unfortunately, it’s hard to find fault with something you love. And, strangely, one of the things I’ve loved most over the years is flying with British Airways. I love the way that when you’ve finished working a long contract onboard a Carnival ship sailing all over the world, you’re welcomed on board by a slightly feminine man in grey trousers and you think: “Aaaah. We haven’t even taken off but I’m home already.”
