We are flying home

Ah the sweet taste of business class lounge wine, especially when one has sweet talked the lounge dragons at Cathay's Pier into letting you into their very nice lounge and not BA's crappy little one stuffed out by the cargo sheds.

The ash seems to have dissipated and all things being equal I should be back in dear old Blighty at 5am tomorrow in time for bacon butties and a shower in the arrivals lounge.

I even managed to wangle a front upstairs berth on the plane, so first dibs at the food and not getting disturbed by people going to the bog whilst you're at 38000 feet over Kazakhstan.

Only piddly thing is I keep doing such a good job pulling their arses out of the fire whilst I'm here that the project manager, over a couple of beers between work and airport tonight practically begged me to come over for three or four weeks.

Don't know how Mrs Dracunculus will take that.... oh shit hang on she reads this blog. I'm screwed!*



*(only joking Mrs D... we'll chat when you're back from the Land of the Pharaohs.)