At the risk of offending my family (who are after all probably the only readers of this blog!) I think it is time I relive a small part of my trip to Vancouver. The one in Canada.

The excuse to travel was the impending marriage of my cousin. The family had all moved out to Vancouver after half a lifetime in Toronto. Incidentally a city I have enjoyed visiting on several occasions.

They have all lived out there for a number of years but it has taken this long for me to get my backside in gear and get out there to take a look see.

I ummed and ah'd about the my flight for a while because flying via Amsterdam is cheaper from my part of the world but I wanted to go to Terminal 5 at Heathrow. To cut a, frankly uninteresting tale a little shorter, British Airways had a "sale" late on in the summer and my wish was granted.

Unfortunately flying has been ruined for me ever since I snagged an upgrade to Business class on BA some years ago. Traveling cattle class really isn't the same anymore. I sometimes wish I hadn't been exposed to the levels of service in Club because now, when I travel I am disappointed and feel somehow sullied by Economy travel. Still life goes on.

Day of travel arrived. I put on my comfy jeans to travel in and then rather wished I hadn't when I had to take my belt off at security. I pulled my waist band over belly button and hopped no one noticed the resulting wedgy. It was that or risk falling through the metal detector with my trousers round my ankles.

Once through security I relax a little and try to find a departure screen to see if my flight is on time. I secured a seat at the window that overlooked the operations and started to check in on my phone with Facebook. The flight was uneventful and not noteworthy in any way. My fellow passengers are all interesting I suppose. Retired folk, business execs, guys with dreadlocks. Dreadlocks are a good look for Afro- Carribeans but a caucasion lad just looks like he is trying too hard.

Interesting moment as I ascended the escalator from security at T5. The ante room at the head of the escalator was all clinical grey panels and for the most part silent. The door to the departure lounge was not immediately obvious but as I stepped off the stairway and turned left , as if by magic, a door swung open and a wall of hubbub sucked me through. It seemed like stepping through into another world. Actually it was rather Bladerunneresque. I remember from that film all these inane advertising videos on blimps and general street level confusion.

This is T5.

You are swept along into the duty free area and outside several of the shops are apparently soundless adverts. The one that sticks in my mind is the fragrance that Keira Knightley was pushing. A large LCD screen above our heads was playing a 20 second commercial over and over again with no break or alternative just back to back Keira. It was like she was stuck in some time paradox and was living the last 20 seconds over and over again. Mesmeric.

I had a 5 hours to kill and lovely though Keira Knightly is (although impossibly skinny) I couldn't face watching her all that many times. I would have been a slavering idiot after a short interlude.

I bought a coffee and a sandwich and then people watched. Opposite my bench was a line of high seats that belonged to the coffee emporium. And there they all sat, an ever changing menagerie of social stereotypes.

And so that is how I spent my afternoon before my flight was called.

Next up - rat tail hairdo's and turbulence