En route and en and en and...

I'd made my way back to London and had thought I'd done well, as the train fare had been reduced, the hotel was half-price and the bus to the hotel was free, thanks to a clever initiative between the airport, the council and the local hotels.  Making my way back to Heathrow the following morning on the return free bus, I was feeling very relaxed, having plenty of time before my flight.  Little did I know how much time I would actually have...

The first flight was to Brussels and from there I was to connect with another flight to Marrakech all on the same airline, Air Brussels.  Sadly, I didn't get to fly in their Tintin plane.  Even more sadly, I didn't get to fly in any of their planes until an hour after the scheduled take-off.  My connecting flight was now looking rather doubtful and sure enough, on arrival I was advised that the next flight to Marrakech would now be at 8.40 pm (some 6 and a half hours later) with Air Maroc.  Not only that, this would not be a direct flight but would have to go via Casablanca, meaning that I'd be arriving at 1.30 am instead of the original 6.10 pm.  

Wish the monks I'd known brewed beer...

At least they gave me some food and drink vouchers but I was warned that these were "not for buying chocolate".  Clearly, I have the kind of face that suggests an inclination for loading up on free chocolate.

"What to do then?", I thought.  And in a Hercule Poirot kind of way, because, after all he's Belgian, I concluded  "Well, they have beer in Belgium you know...and just at this moment City are playing United, so let's sit back and relax".

Before I knew it, a beer, followed by a Dubbel and a Tripel (City did win after all), a sort of a Belgian un, deux, trois, as they would say.  At this point I thought I better use the facilities before heading to the gates but my progress was interrupted by a very insistent chap burbling away, because they speak French here you know,  Anyway, it turned out that he was steering me to the handicapped toilet.  Clearly, also a very perceptive fellow.

At last, feeling quite comfortable, which was a good thing because Air Maroc is not one of the world's great airlines - in fact with twist nozzle aircon controls and pop-down (shared) screens, it was like flying in the 80's - we took off for Casablanca.  Here's looking at you kid etc!