Samosas for breakfast

I now have a favourite Balti curry house on Brick Lane. On the way to the Air BnB last night I got two big veggie samosas and a dish of breaded eggplant in a spicy sauce--so tender, I don’t know how they get it that way. I had half for dinner last night and half for breakfast at Stansted Airport.

At some point during lunch yesterday, a cold that had been hovering in the background descended hard. I could just feel myself going down like a sack of bricks. I was so happy to get into my bed last night and not have to put on a front for my PRI colleagues.

This morning, as I waited at the gate for the plane, I met the loveliest woman. She had been on my plane over yesterday. She appeared to be around 70? She had gone to England to mark what would have been her son’s 40th birthday. He died seven years ago with cancer. She spoke at length about what a colourful character he was--his gold jacket, his black and white big check jacket, his bright coloured socks, how he put money in every collection box he passed. She was so animated speaking about him, not sad or tearful (unlike me). He was very close to his siblings and she was in London with her other children to celebrate his life. People are remarkable, aren’t they? Her husband died a few years ago, she said he never got over losing their son. She was very close to one sister and the two of them were estranged from their older sister. The younger sister died and the older sister lives on. This woman has experienced so much loss, and here she is on the plane with her bright coloured socks smiling away as she talked of her son. She also has a daughter who plays cricket for Ireland and she has traveled to watch her daughter play in India and Guyana. What an amazing woman. It was such a privilege to sit next to her--what are the odds that we’d be on two flights together two days running and then sit next to each other? Not just a privilege but fate!
I took this photo at Stansted airport for my friend Hema:

Apparently it’s a store based in Amsterdam.
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