British Airways have given me the gift of time. First they offered me a flight 10 days after the one that was cancelled. Now, their phone line is so busy I am not even allowed to wait on hold.
What to do with this time? I decide to get a shave. I can get one at my hotel for 15 times the price of where I’d previously had one in a less-touristy part of town. Maybe it’ll be 15 times as good.
It is exactly the same.
The hotel has a calmer but less fun atmosphere. If there is one area where the hotel shave experience is superior, it is in the fact that the barber doesn’t have disconcertingly long nails on his left hand – the ‘arse hand’ for those that don’t know about these things.
After such an exhausting day, I fall asleep during Deccan Chargers’ run-chase. Fortunately, Brian phones to ask if he’s woken me up.
The next morning, I am still unwell enough to be discomfited, but not sufficiently sick to warrant calling a doctor.
British Airways are still too busy to let me wait on hold, so I busy myself growing more facial hair in order that I might have an activity for the next day.