At least I assume so. Sadly Celia didn't leave measurements.
OK i know that was a little cryptic. Think Brief Encounter. That woman spent an extraordinary amount of time lurking around in cafes near transport hubs. And so, in general, do I.
An aspect of zebra travel that is little remarked upon is that getting anywhere involves help, wheels and waiting. Today I am camped in a small cafe in Limerick called Greenes. This isnt a travelog but I can recommend it. Basic but freindly and warm. Menu not fancy but filling and staff very very helpful with trays and stuff. I am in the quaint town of five line comic poem because of a conference i attended with a colleague, herein known as the Dark Mistress. (NB she is not in any way my mistress nor likely to be). We had time to kill pre plane so she has gone shopping and I am minding the cases because shopping was not on. I subluxed both my shoulders in the shower this morning (one having a wank and the other picking up the soap) and then popped my hip whilst walking from lne venue to the other so although xmas shopping would be good i cannot really do it. So I am waiting like Celia, enjoying tea and idly wondering if Leslie Loward is going to turn up.
Travelling is the same. Given my level of frequent flier i get to go jnto the lounge at aiports so when i get disabled assistance I get taken there pre gate. Previousky i would be take to a cafe. You have to insist on this at check in or they just leave you waiting at an assembly point and rush you through at the last minute. If you want airport shops or a bite to eat insist on the right to Celia.
Trains are the same. A lot of the disabled seating is in cafes.
I do sometimes miss the ability to just wander around. It made life much easier.
Also I wish they would stop playing Rachmaninovs second piano concerto.
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