15 January 2016, 5 pm
We return to the airport and several thousands of miserable skiers. They are miserable because they are going home. Not all of them are able to walk properly. The others head off to drink bubbly in the executive lounge. I buy plenty of CHOCOLATE – including that instructed by my geographically-disengaged teenage daughter – and then make for the EasyJet® queue, since I am travelling back to Bristol pleb-class. I think it is safer to avoid executive lounges because if you spend too long in an executive lounge you can end up with Airmiles. I do not want to get Airmiles; it sounds nasty. Fortunately, the EasyJet Geneva flight is a cut above the usual EasyJet offering. People who can afford to visit Geneva in January are not your average plebs. They may not be able to slide down a snowy mountain without shattering their own or somebody else’s knee joint, but they know what a fondue is and that salopettes are not something you dip in it. The flight is a most well-mannered affair, and nobody catches Airmiles.
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