Leaving San Ming was never easy. The luggage weighing in at a combined total of around 70kg didn't help matters much. Dave's main challange was the Little Black Bag. Alone, it weighed around 30kg. Although it had wheels, they were very misbehaving, and usually went in random directions. It was easily big enough to be awkward, but just small enough to make it uncomfortable to drag along the floor, even if the wheels worked. The overall shape was that of a big blob of mash potatoe. This would be fun.
Carried down 6 flights of stairs, thrown into a car, lifted out at the station, dragged through the station hitting every bumb, up and down ramps and stairs, lifted onto and through the train, then back off again, dragged through another station, ramps, stairs, onto a coach, off a coach, into a hotel, back out, lifted in and out of a taxi, round an airport and onto a plane.
When added to the lack of sleep during the 48hr trip, Dave was incredibly happy to finally touch down in Manchester and have it safely tucked away onto an airport trolly.
Unfortantly, this is were it made an unscheduled stop at the customs.
Lifted onto the table, opened up and emptied out.
"I'm sorry, your not allowed to bring meat in, or shellfish..."
The conversation was neither short nor sweet, but at the end of it the Little Black Bag had managed to lose 6kg in a matter of minutes. Slim fast eat your heart out.
6kg! That was almost a third of it's stupid, uncontrolable, bulky mess. Argh!!
This argh was not helped by the fact that that third had probably cost a fair bit of money and had been the highest quality stuff. Not only had he just carried that all the way to England for no good reason, but now he wouldn't have anything to eat when he got home.
He wasn't happy. Jean wasn't happy.
'I just wanna go home and sleep.'
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