A Day in the Life
The taxi arrives at 5:50am to take me to the airport.
My chariot awaits...
I fall asleep as the plane zooms out over the Irish Sea...
...and wake up as we roar over the Mersey.
When I first started going to clinic in Liverpool, the airport (then called Speke) was little more than a shack. My how it's grown!
A taxi firm picks me and other Manx hospital patients up in this mini-bus, which smells like rotten socks inside. Not the best way to travel when one is prone to motion sickness!