"Do you wish lunch sir?"

"What's the choice?"

"Chicken or lamb"

Faced with a big decision like that, maybe the seat in front would provide inspiration. Was it to be 'Yes' or 'No Thanks'. It wasn't an easy choice. The Indian looking fellow is hunched over his pawky pull out table praying to Mecca, at 34,997 feet, then when finished pulls out and puffs an e-cigarette, just something to figit with I guess. Well, he's not really smoking I don't suppose. Still could not see what choice he has made when Izgi asked again,

"Do you wish chicken or lamb sir?"

An undoubtably attractive girl, she has an Arabian look, flickering eyes which hides her impatient exasperation. She looks a bit more eastern than Dennistoun Agnes who quite clearly is a Scots girl chosen for her ability to interpret half the passengers' lingo. They do all look rather pretty in that red and white head-dress though.

Now there is mild excitement as the Indian man crawls about under his seat, tickling the passengers' feet, with his i-phone torch on. "Saved your life, eh!" I offer, as I hand the metal tube, half his e-cigarette, to him. Who needs in-flight entertainment?

I have to make a choice now, it's now or never : the one you know or the one that was unknown but you'd been told was good for you. Am I going to cop out with "No Thanks" or try something completely new? In the end I have the chicken, the tried and tested favourite.......after all down under in Kiwi land there was going to be little choice, lamb is everywhere you turn, both alive and dead.

A good first day, I muse, we're on our way. I settle back for a bit of a kip, reflecting. downsizing house then off to NZ all within 3 1/2 weeks, madness, only the Smarts would take that one on. Son and Father to see you off from GLA and daughter to meet you in DXB, it really was all rather touching. I glance at Lesley, she is asleep; four hours to go and then forty two degrees of desert heat; 1 day down, 243 to come.