Glasgow

"Welcome to flight F09 from Stanstead Airport to Glasgow Prestwick International Airport..." It was that "International Airport" bit that bothered me. You'd never get Heathrow calling itself Heathrow International Airport. We know what it is. But Prestwick? Bless. I am a proper airport, really. It wasn't much choice, going by plane. If I'd have wanted to go by train I'd have spent 16 hours in that carriage (that's of course, delays notwithstanding) and £244. By plane? An hour each way and £53 all in, including taxes. Of course, there's always the "geting to and from the airport" question to consider and I guess that evens things out, time and cost wise.
Glasgow. I haven't been to Glasgow for a while. Not since seeing Roxy Music there last year and OK, so it's not Yokohama or Seoul on some all-expenses paid jolly but it's international air travel to and from a proper airport and if I'm really nice and if the Gods are smiling, Lord Express might even pay me.
It's a curious thing with these budget air flights. You still get that visceral thrill of going to an airport, of getting on a plane... Is that a generational thing? Will there soon be a Saturday night TV show called something like I Love Going On Planes? That feeling of exotic wonder, of 'we could go anywhere, do anything', does it still happen?

Was there ever a place called Thousand Island? A place known for its unique salad dressing? Or was the salad dressing named Thousand Island to indicate the myriad influences that had gone into it? 'An exotic blend of a thousand different tastes'. That sort of thing.