Kevin Blake's Blog

When I booked the Poland trip all those many, many weeks ago (2 actually), I remember thinking to myself “Damn, that’s a really early flight to get to Gatwick for. I’ll make a note to sort something out about that”. And yes, arriving at an airport the opposite side of London for 5.35 in the morning doesn’t seem like a great idea in hindsight. Quite what I imagined I’d sort out – I still have no idea. Perhaps I’d be freezing time, turning night to day, or chartering a Virgin Atlantic 777 with beds to fly me the unimaginable distance between Watford Junction to Gatwick.

Sadly, what I actually had in mind was taking advantage of Silverlink’s impressive array of Watford – Euston services. I say impressive. Leaving at 4.11, what I really mean is sadistic. What the travel info site doesn’t tell you, is – the 9 minute tube journey from Euston to Victoria will be incredibly difficult what with there being no tube service at 4.45 in the morning. I should have known this wouldn’t be easy, and I was already regretting my decision to not build a runway outside my flat.

A quick taxi ride later, I’d made it to Victoria even earlier than the totally hopeless rail web site had advised, so I boarded my train and sped off towards the airport. And then, fortunately, things got a whole lot easier Massive queues at security, which could be quickly bypassed by joining the shorter queues, proving the British stereotype once more. If you ever join a queue, under no circumstances should you ever leave it. You never know when you may be in a queue with one who has the ability to stop time. And if they do it to one of those other queues, you my friend, are screwed.

Surprisingly enough, Gatwick airport was as I’d left it last time. No Godzilla like monsters had roamed through the corridors destroying everything causing a massive regeneration project since my last visit. Nor had a huge investment banker invested millions of pounds to rebrand British Airways under his own name, erecting a 60ft statue of himself in the forecourt. All of which I found a little dissapointing. So try to imagine my excitement when I found there were now book vending machines by the departure gates. Right opposite the drinks ones, you can buy a selection of the 12 latest and greatest books right there from the vending machine. How amazing is that? You’ve walked past five or six book shops already but maybe you didn’t have time. It’s only when you reach your gate, and you can truly relax before the departure, sitting down for ten minutes with your…shit…you forgot your book. That’s no problem – off to the machine you go. You didn’t like the look of the leviathon guarding the waterstones till anyway. Well that didn’t happen to me, I remembered a number of books, but if it had – damn, I’d be glad for that machine.

That’s not my only rant about books I’m afraid. It got me thinking, and even more annoyed about airport “exclusives” I’d seen in Waterstones. I’d quite fancied the new Harlan Coben, and the Michael Marshall from the two for 20 quid deal. I even own the latter already, but hardbacks are just too big and cumbersone for a holiday read where space is limited. You all know the sort of exclusives I’m talking about… They’re the hardback editions you can only buy from the airport and some train stations. So exclusive then, that you can only get them at just about every major entry point to London. Hah, take that Londoners. You’re already within the borders and you’ll never find them unless you leave.

But seriously, what on earth possessed any creature to make these editions?? It doesn’t have the quality of a hardback but it’s the same size. It takes up the same space in my luggage as a hardback. And WHY? Why not exclusively sell proper handy-sized paperback editions? I’m very happy to pay a little more for the same paperback books that will be released countrywide in the next few months. They’re about the right size to be carried around and no worse than the 12ft versions currently on offer… I’m going on holiday and chances are it’ll be left on a bench anyway. Instead, I’m forced to feel like a very small child holding a huge impression of a paperback.

So as I was trying to say – I’m in Poland now, where the hotel glasses are quite the opposite – small enough to be made for Vodka and only Vodka. I think it’s high time to go and explore, and see if I can’t find some