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South of France, aye. Sunning it up by the pool, marinating myself in cheese, eating all the bread products.
Manchester airport is a shit show. Factor in Ryanair’s love of not employing enough people to make things run properly, add in a malfunctioning security scanner, spice it all up with the insane heave of the summer holidays. Hell on earth. Two weeks of breakfast wine should make it all worthwhile.
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At least I'm on my own this trip, I don't have to worry about what anyone else is playing at.
When you travel with a wife and toddler, then at some point travel on your own, the latter is positively enjoyable. Regardless of which airport. "I have to sit here for two hours and stare at a wall without talking to someone? Fuck yeah!"
Airports.
Fuck airports.