So, where was I?

We left Dubai on Saturday. The 8am flight meant we had to be checked in by 6am, which meant our driver had to pick us up at the hotel by 5.10am, which meant we had to be ready by 4.30am which meant I had to be awake by 3.30am to shower, dress and check the hotel room no less than three times to make sure I hadn't left anything behind. Which meant it wasn't surprising that I arrived bleary-eyed and exhausted in Hebden Bridge, Yorkshire at 4.30pm.

Notwithstanding the probably unnecessary extra precautions to ensure we were on time, the flight rom Dubai to Manchester was probably the best flight so far. Sitting in the front row, as I mentioned in a prevous post, was better for the legs, but got a bit intimate with all the extra people crowding round our seats while the waited to divest themsleves of the byproducts of the free booze. The only other benefit of the front row seats was the view we got from the front row porthole. The photo above, I think, is Iraq.

We entered Manchester Airport and were immediately segregated into those from the UK and EU countries, and those from everywhere else. Jaime's dad was able to enter on his UK passport, and zoomed through immigration. We waited about half an hour, which is pretty good considering the drama that Heathrow's been having in preparation for the Olympics. And again, Customs had no interest in the contents of my bags - my face must exude trust and innocence!

We picked up our rental car after a boring interlude that involved an unattended Budget rental desk and an impatient Avis "Preferred" customer, and then turned our attention to the task of driving in England. One small mercy is that England is on the same side of the road as NZ, so at least I didn't have to deal with that particular nightmare. But despite the best efforts of my wife (or as I like to call her, "life size GPS" - standing for "gorgeous, pretty, sexy) to direct me on to the motorway, we circumnavigated the roundabout outside Manchester Airport three times before we found an exit that didn't take us back into the airport, and ventured out into the Mancunian wilderness!

In the wilderness, Jaime successfully speared a rare beast, which hasn't been seen in NZ for nearly two decades. The bag of Monster Munch, which she snared in a petrol station on the outskirts of Manchester delighted her no end. It was a good thing too, as it took us nearly two hours to get from the airport to Hebden Bridge, so Monster Munch was our first official food in the UK.

Our place in Hebden Bridge, Croft Mill Apartments, is amazing. It's a two-bedroom unit in a converted mill. The owner, Josephine, has adopted an ethos of organic and local food and products. Awaiting us was a breakfast hamper of locally produced bread, jams, eggs, fruit, apple juice and beers, organic fair trade coffee and tea, chocolate - the list goes on. The only thing missing from the hamper was more Monster Munch. Ah well, can't have everything I guess...