Air Tigger

Paris Au Revoire.

Felt bad leaving. Wasn't in the mood for blipping. Then I noticed this little girl (about my son's age) with a soother in her mouth, staring with great concentration at something directly overhead. I looked up and saw this helium-filled Tigger balloon (maybe it had belonged to the girl), stuck to the businesslike grey concrete of the high, airport ceiling. A fitting signpost, pointing the way home to where my son and his stripy Tigger-pyjamas were waiting.

I had just taken two shots when someone tapped me lightly on the shoulder. It was one of those ubiquitous soldiers. He said something in French, to the effect that photography was forbidden in the airport. So that was that.

If I hadn't taken that shot I'd have had to make do with this one: our final descent to a cloudier, much cooler Dublin (Dún Laoghaire's pincer-harbour visible to the right).