Nelson Airport

Hi there

I've just returned from a week's holiday (yes, yes, another holiday!).  This time I went to Kaiteriteri , at the edge of the Abel Tasman National Park, at the top of the South Island of New Zealand.  And there will be more about this holiday In a follow-up blog.

But today I'm venting my spleen over the Nelson Airport cafe.

There are probably about fifty tables in the open plan cafe.  I stood there, yesterday,  clutching in one hand my plate with its cheese and ham filled bread roll and, in the other hand, my glass of water.

Umm ... where to sit?  Every table was full.  But, hold on ...  I peered intently.  There was not one table where people were actually eating.  Nobody had cups in front of them.  I saw dozens of laptops and phones.  Family groups were chatting.  Luggage had been dumped at a few empty tables (the SWAT team would be instantly here if this were America.  Even in Wellington, the area would be roped off.  Eventually.)

I was in such a terrible mood, what with my ninth day of the flu and, yes, more about my flu later. 

I complained about the lack of seating for cafe customers.  After a long conversation the cafe manager condensed all her talk down to "it's what people do".  She saw no reason for my flu-ridden demented giggling when she said that people had to use the tables for their laptops, even when I pointed out that there were dozens of empty chairs in the foyer and what did the word LAPtop actually mean?

In the end I plonked angrily down at a luggage-strewn table, just as a guy appeared from somewhere, obviously highly indignant over my intrusion at his table and my sneezing, sniffling, and coughing seemed to annoy him a tad too.

Come on Nelson Airport, label at least half-a-dozen tables for the use of cafe customers only.