This Bogus Poetry

For no apparent reason, I'm spending a month in Tokyo. I feel really lucky to be able to take a random trip like this to somewhere I have never been before and thought I may never get the chance to go to. I got a great deal on a flight from Birmingham to Tokyo via Amsterdam and everything goes well. I get my vegan meal on the plane (trust me, go vegan when you fly, you always get extra salad and fruit, plus you always get your meal first which is my favourite thing ever!). I get to Watch The Social Network again and it is just as good second time around. Arriving sleepy in Tokyo, I have the friendliest bag search of my entire life, with the customs guy laughing at everything I say and my four guidebooks, as he inspects my bag thoroughly. He is highly amused by the six Dairy Milk chocolate bars that I have brought along to give to people I meet or stay with. When I arrive in the US I am always tired and scared of saying the wrong thing and being turned away or getting back roomed, b...

I've grown to dislike airports very much. They seem to have become a cross between shopping centres and prisons. Malaga Airport smells of disinfectant and tastes of overpriced timeshares and package tourism. Passport control is self service. At Palma De Mallorca Airport, a bus driver who is so relaxed that he is almost a parody of a Spanish stereotype dumps us smack in the middle of the runway between two planes, so we have no idea which we have to get on. After a few minutes a very angry management type comes screeching up in his golf buggy, directs us to our plane and then tries to start a fist fight with the bus driver. The driver will not get involved and instead just shrugs his shoulders as if to say, 'I did my best here. What do you want me to do, drive people to their actual plane? Are you LOCO?!?' At Gibraltar Airport a road runs through the middle of the runway. When a plane comes in to land traffic is stopped by a level crossing. At the Gibraltar/Spain border we a...