Horseplay

As a long time and frequent international traveller it's very easy to become rather blasé about the varied and fascinating places that we visit. This applies even within Europe where over the years we have been to all the great capital cities. As a small group of chatterboxes, we happy few commentators tend to dine out most evenings, often in the nearest watering hole we can find.

A few years ago we decided that a greater effort must be made, and we took the opportunity to visit the Coliseum in Rome, the Spanish Steps and the Pantheon; Montmartre, the Louvre and the Palace of Versailles in Paris; the wonderful Prado Museum in Madrid, full of Goya's treasures; the aesthetic delights of Prague and Vienna and so on. It's something all too few golfers do, and when you throw in other venues such as Beijing and Shanghai, Moscow, Sydney, Singapore, Kuala Lumpur, Bangkok and Jakarta, you realise what a hugely privileged life we lead. I'm indebted to Hong Kong-based Dominic Boulet for showing me some of the delights of the Far East, which would have been so easy to miss.

However, there are a few irritations involved in all this travelling. We are very fortunate in that we invariably travel in Business Class on long-haul flights, which is a great boon, and does allow one to arrive at the next tournament reasonably refreshed. I have developed the annoying habit of always wanting to be first off the plane, a desire that I quite often achieve. It's not always possible though, and I confess it does cause the red mist to descend when the charge for immigration is on and there is a line of wheeled suitcases weaving their way erratically in front of me, their owners oblivious to the fact that they are trailing this wretched encumbrance three feet behind them, cunningly designed to trip up the unwary. Frequently there will be an elderly couple too, progressing sweetly and innocently at half a mile an hour and filling the whole companionway. Even if there is a little extra width they will foil your attempt to pass, by wobbling and swerving at the moment critique.

You either have to politely wait, with mounting frustration and the crowd closing in on you from behind, or rudely yell at them and elbow your way through. Fear not, Mother, I pursue the former course. But then comes the escalator. Why is it that people are quite happy to walk up or down stairs, but as soon as they get on an escalator they stand still and side by side, thereby blocking the passage of anyone who wants to dash on down, or even up? On the London Undergound, just like the MTR, there is a code; the idle non-walkers "Stand on the Right", allowing the more athletically minded to pass unhindered. Great. So why can't that happen at airports? Grrrr!

This inconsiderate behaviour has started before the flight of course, with the passage through security. Why is it that people will stand in the queue, idly twiddling their thumbs, waiting until they actually get to the conveyor belt before they take laptops out of their cases, phones and loose change out of their pockets? More "grrrr"!

Perhaps such frustrations will magically dissolve as we move into the Year of the Horse. Have a very happy Lunar New Year.