My flight over was the lovely Belfast Newark one. I've always loved that flight and never more so than on Monday when it was not the flight the hen party that had descended on Belfast International was getting. Lucky for Newark, better luck next time Benidorm. You know the drill with those sort of hen parties. They have to have some sort of matching attire: cowboy hats, tiaras, t-shirt or feather boa. They hurl cheap plastic accessories on the bride until she has more stuff on her than a Christmas tree. A cheap, tacky and, dare I say it, a slutty Christmas tree. This group were no different. Pink feather boas all round and team t-shirt with names on the back. Let's see, we had Sarah Big Baps, DD Diane, Leg Over Lesley, Maneater Michelle amongst others. Even those names make me cringe; I would hate to have to wear a t-shirt like that. But then there was worse.
You stay classy Gemz. (I don't even want to write on my blog what her friend Claire's name was.)
All through the airport were these pink feathers from their boas.
I have a feeling that the clean up from them in the airport will be the least messy of their entire trip.