Airport shuttle (2)

[Mr Driver reminded me of the Canadian Hell’s Angel I once met in the back row of a BA flight from Heathrow to Vancouver. The hostesses made us drink all the whisky on the plane, and he ended up having some kind of reclining-seat-based scuffle with the guy in front. As we approached immigration, he realised that the scuffle had lost him his passport, and I thought I had seen the last of him as he ran back across the tarmac towards the aircraft, pursued by security staff. However, several weeks later, and severely lost on the island on my way to the flight back, a bus stopped and the large, bearded individual behind the wheel said, “Step in, brother.” The other passengers were requested to disembark at a passing mall, and I was driven at high speed to the connecting ferry.]

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