An uneventful journey to the airport. Lima is foggy as we leave, so there is little to see from the plane save for a few mountains jutting through the cloud layer. A little later, we catch glimpses of patches of rainforest canopy and snatches of meandering brown river through gaps in the cloud. Our departure was slightly delayed due to the late arrival of the incoming flight, but with a five to six hour wait in Madrid for our connection to London, we are not unduely upset.
The rest of the journey passes without incident. But after passing though immigration at Heathrow, we discover that John’s luggage is nowhere to be seen. His is not the only baggage missing. About twenty other people are queuing at the Iberia desk. The man behind the desk is helpful and promises to courier John’s rucksack to him as soon as it arrives, probably tomorrow. Apparently, the baggage handlers in Madrid are involved in a dispute and are operating a “work to rule”. Quite how failing to load a quarter of the luggage into the plane can be interpreted as “work to rule” is perhaps best left to the imagination.
Our bus from Heathrow finally arrives in Nottingham at 7.27 pm, three minutes early. I consider walking back to my house, but I decide to get a taxi. Breaking with recent habit, I refrain from haggling over the price.