Leprechauns, or the Flying Irish

So, flew to New York on Saturday via Manchester, Dublin and Shannon on Aer Lingus. I will agree with everyone else that Manchester has to have one of the world's most incomprehensible airports. From the elevator that had buttons for three floors, but which only stopped at two, to the complete lack of sign-age to the helpful computer system that took 10 minutes to figure out where I was trying to go... but top marks to the check-in staff, who took one look at my tickets on the computer and said "did you have any trouble booking this?" which led to the tale of the Aussie named Bruce [no, you couldn't make it up...] who worked in the Aer Lingus call centre and who couldn't figure which way was up...

But I digress. On the flight to Dublin nothing interesting happened.

On the flight to Shannon I was sitting in the window seat when a woman came down the aisle dressed in all black and with a general demeanour that shouted NUN [and bloody unhappy nun at that...], and when she saw me, sitting in the seat next to her... well, let's just say that she did not look best pleased at having to sit next to the spawn of Satan for the next 45 minutes. So she sat down and we spent the next five minutes fighting over the arm-rest and my rather petty belief that she should at least keep her elbows over the arm rest and not lodged firmly in my ribs.

After which she pulls out her book and spends the entire flight reading why it is IMMORAL to KISS BEFORE MARRIAGE.

Now I will be honest and admit that the thought of spending another 7 1/2 hours like this was not pleasant and I was dreading it, to put it mildly. So we all got off at Shannon, and went through the completely stupid US-VISIT immigration system [of which more in a subsequent post...] and I went in a fruitless search for munchies as I'd neglected to stock up in Edinburgh or Manchester or Dublin. Whoops.

So I get back on board and see someone different sitting next to my seat... which was a relief, to put it mildly. She was also Irish, and was, well... drunk. As a skunk, having had six whiskies at the bar in the airport and lord only knows how much before that. She thought my nun story was funny, but when the airplane's engines were started she whipped out a bottle of Holy Water and sprinkled her surroundings before crossing herself...