EOTL05: Tales from Start Of The Line

[David Scott]

Pictures

I’m not the sort of person who is gushed at by tearful friends at airports or embraced by family members when I get on a train. The closest I ever got was in 1992 when I convinced my parents to see me off from Glasgow Central station at the start of my new London life. I conceded that they could sit in the coffee shop as long as they waved when the train pulled out. The train was delayed. Ultimately the draw of The Antiques Road Show proved too much for them and they left.

When Biggs and I were discussing the Heathrow Terminal 5 leg of EOTL earlier this year it struck me that If I wasn’t ever going to be an airport greetee I might at least be an airport greeter. And so might Biggs.

“How do you feel about us going to Terminal 5 when Judith’s arriving back from one of her business trips?” I asked. “She’d be really pleased to see us at the arrival gate.”

“We could surprise her.”

“Yes,” I said. “That would be splendid.”

At that point in the year we were still pretty naive about EOTL scheduling. It didn’t strike me that it might prove difficult to find a space in the diaries of Biggs, me and London Underground let alone Judith’s work diary. (Even without the benefit of a likelihoodometer neither of us is confident anymore about completing our challenge by the end of the year *.We console ourselves with the thought that, as Biggs has observed “Nobody else really gives a fuck.”)

The Terminal 5 EOTL option has sat on the back burner as a result of these scheduling difficulties. It’s not that Judith hasn’t been arriving at Terminal 5 on a regular basis: The Man has had her flying all over the shop this year. The Man being The Man however he has always organised things with more of a mind to her being in the office by 7am than her enjoying an EOTL surprise pint when the pubs are open. My challenge therefore has been to find an occasion when:

1. Biggs, London Underground and I had a space in our diaries.
2. Judith was arriving at Terminal 5 at a point in the day when the pubs were open.
3. I could wangle things so that she didn’t jump into a company cab before we could surprise her.

Eventually I gave in.

“Look,” I said to her in our garden the other day. “I’ve been trying to organise a Terminal 5 EOTL surprise for you. But I don’t know what your comings and goings are. Are you going to be at Terminal 5 at any point when the pubs are open. So we can surprise you?”

“I’m getting in from Mumbai next Thursday night at 6:15pm,” she said. “You know that.”

“No I don’t. But that’s good: we’ll surprise you then. God I wish I’d spoken to you before. Don’t tell Biggs we’ve talked about this though. It would make it less of an event.”

“That would have been nice.”

“I know. Sorry. Look, just pretend you don’t know about it. Play it up a bit when you see us at Arrivals.”

*******

So it was that after a hot and crowded tube journey to Terminal 5,

Biggs and I found ourselves sitting in Terminal 5’s 5 Tuns bar the following Thursday night.

It turns out we’d been unrealistic about the eating and drinking options this side of security at Terminal 5. Arrivals has nothing. Departures has the 5 Tuns. And it’s rubbish.

“This place is pretty rubbish,” Biggs was saying.

“It is. Just as well we’re not going to be here all night”

Biggs looked around the vast emptying space of Terminal 5. “I don’t see many other options”

“Don’t worry,” I said. “We can jump into Judith’s car when it gets here. It’s a lovely night and we can have some wine in our garden if you fancy. I might call the blog Start Of The Line. You know, because it’s at home.”

“When’s Judith’s flight getting in? Wasn’t she meant to be landing at 6:15 or something?”

“’ probably been delayed”

“You seem relaxed about it.”

“Actually I know she’s been delayed. She sent me a text saying they’ve landed but aren’t being let off the plane for half an hour or so. ”

“What about her car?”

“That’s not due for an hour or so. To give us some time.” Biggs looked at me suspiciously.

“Shit. Ok look sorry Biggs. I had to tell Judith we were meeting her. It was just too difficult to organise. The car’s meant to be arriving after we’ve all had some for drinks together. She’s going to text me when she’s got her luggage. Listen when Judith sees us at the Arrival gate she’ll be pretending it’s a big surprise. It’s probably easiest if you just play along.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Yes. Sorry. The whole surprise greeting thing would have been great, but it’s kind of difficult to organise. I’ll probably write it like that for the blog though... make it more of a story”

“Now that is ridiculous. I don’t think you should overestimate the number of readers we’ve got. It doesn’t matter what you write in the blog; you can write whatever you bloody want.”

On the way back in the car Biggs spotted a parakeet flying across the motorway in front of us.
“Did you see that parakeet?” he said. “You should mention that in the blog.”

Footnote#1
So far we have enlisted the assistance of a chemist, an engineer and an actuary to help establish the nature of the likelihoodometer formula but progress has been slow. Funding has been cited as an issue.