24 hours into life in the UK: it's odd what you notice...
Written on Thursday 18 June, 2009
We got back to the UK safely yesterday, after an uneventful flight, although the BA staff in Entebbe were bizarrely draconian in their interpretation of the 23kg-per-bag rule – even when we were underweight in aggregate – which required some repacking at the airport. Grr.
After 9 months in Uganda and 24 hours in the UK, what are the differences which have struck me most? Not what you might expect. OK, the journey from Heathrow was idyllic, being on unbroken tarmac with not there merest hint of a pothole. But stranger things have struck me today:
- Toilet roll in the UK is about 25 times the size of the stuff in Uganda. The photographic evidence accompanying this article should be proof enough, I hope.
- When you overhear a conversation in the street, you understand what’s being said. Unless it’s a screaming child, in which case the accompanying gesticulation usually crosses linguistic barriers anyway.
- All the cars are so posh! Even comparatively modest conveyances appear to the unaccustomed eye to be the epitome of luxurious transport. All of them have 2 headlights which work, a boot that closes and, it seems, very few of them belch acrid blue-black smoke. Hardly any have more than one occupant, and none more than 5, which seems very modest.
I wonder what I’ll be thinking at the 48-hour mark? I have yet to sample the delights of a town centre or supermarket…