I awoke as we began our descent to Istanbul airport. Once there, I said a little prayer that my luggage would be transferred successfully. I stormed on ahead to the transit gate, where I hoped to be one of the first to check in for the London leg of the flight, and thus get a window seat. I was, and I did, although the girl did have to give it several tries before the ticket machine was persuaded to co-operate. Then back into the departure lounge - surely the least comfortable lounge in the world. Still, only 2 hours or so to kill there. It felt great to be in a free country again, in a democracy where you can speak freely, and not to live in constant fear of people in uniform. I never thought I’d be thinking this about Turkey, but I was. I went to see if I could afford anything in the duty free shop. As luck would have it, my 250 000TL would get me a bottle of Yeni Raki. After this I found Rob and Ronnie bedded down on their new rugs, fast asleep. At last it was time to board the kite (the Göreme again - but did they leave my luggage on board?), and off we went. No identification of luggage this time.
Unfortunately we took off in the wrong direction for a view of the Golden City, so all I got to see was the sprawl of suburban Istanbul. There followed a long period of flying over nothing but low clouds, broken only by the Yugoslav mountains. Then more clouded-over lands. Finally, over Germany, the cloud cover started to break. I tried to identify where we were - after a while I hazarded I could see Gent and Bruges. I was wrong, for shortly afterwards I could make out the Scheldte estuary, then the huge port complex at Antwerp, then Vlissingen, and finally Middelburg. Then nothing but the North Sea. Not a cloud in sight by now. I wondered where we would be coming in over England. Then I could see it - Maldon district! I could see it all - Bradwell power station, Mersea and Northey Islands, Othona Roman fort, and Maldon itself. After this followed Danbury, then, in the distance, Chelmsford. I couldn’t believe it. Even from up there, it looked dull and uninspiring. We flew in along the A12 and M25, then turned in to London. A perfect day for an approach over London. Ally Pally, Finsbury Park, Holloway Road (Wedmore Street adistant?), Kings Cross and St Pancras, central London (it’s amazing how compact it actually is), Hyde Park, and then - Hammersmith, and my flat. I was happy - at last I had seen my home from the air, after many previous failed attempts.
We landed, and in no time our luggage came through. Il hammdu lilleh. Rob checked his bottles of Arak. He had asked in Damascus whether they would survive in the hold. "In shah Allah," came the reply. When he found they were OK he, too, exclaimed "il hammdu lilleh." It was decision time: which channel shall I go through. I decided to cut my losses and go for the red channel. It cost me £70, but I had a carpet at the end of it - better than not declaring and having it confiscated. The customs chaps seemed quite amenable - so that’s where they put the friendly ones: in the red channel! I commented on how low the allowances were. They replied that they had actually recently been raised - from a pittance to not very much. I left the red channel, only to find that I still had to run the gauntlet of the green channel. I hadn’t realised this, so it came as a nasty shock - after all, I’m forever being stopped by customs, and I’m getting sick of it.
On the tube Rob and Ronnie (whom I had encountered yet again) met two people they had met out in northern Syria. It turned out they had flown in on another flight that same day, and had been to Lebanon as well. They ended up giving me some advice on survival there, should I decide to go back. Apparently it is very expensive, as the only form of public transport is the taxi. Also, they drive like complete nutters. This matched my image of the Lebanese quite well - in my experience they are a load of nutters. I was pleased when Hammersmith came around, and I collapsed, exhausted but happy, into my flat. Roll on next year. Where am I going? Who knows? Lebanon and Israel via Cyprus? Iran? Somewhere exciting, in shah Allah.
Home again. Il hammdu lilleh.