My bag has been kidnapped

As a frightened flyer a touch of levity in the safety announcements by the cabin crew can help to lift the tension. On one Ryanair flight a few years back the steward had the passengers chuckling when he concluded a funny spiel by pointing out that if we came down in water the lifejackets had a light, “to attract sharks”. He probably got sacked for it.

But what’s this, coming into Edinburgh on an easyJet flight the attendant stresses taking all belongings with you because on a previous flight someone had left a tablet on board and it had cost £20 to retrieve? Eh? That must be a joke. If it is it’s certainly on us. Because Edinburgh, like other airports, has privatised lost luggage. It has been contracted out to a private company called Luggage-Point, which is based on a business park at Cramlington, outside Newcastle.

The charging system for return of your property begins at £5 for small personal items, bags are £7.50, with tablets, jewellery and laptops £20 a go, but going up to £50 the longer the property is held – and no matter how much pleading you make you won’t get them back for free. So what gives Edinburgh, and other airports, the right to whip your possession and ransom them via a third party?

Apparently, it’s one of the (unknown) rights you give when you use the airport and its facilities. Well, it shouldn’t be. I remember a case a few months back where a woman was hauled into court because she had found a £20 note on a supermarket floor and hadn’t turned it in. It was theft by finding.

If this isn’t the same thing by airports, what is it? And no, I haven’t been fleeced by them for leaving a laptop.

Courting trouble?

I am having a small wager that the Court of Session judgment on the proroguing of Parliament will be overturned by the Supreme Court bext week. This is based largely on a hunch and with scant legal knowledge but it would seem to be extremely difficult to prove intent, that Johnson lied to the Queen. It was said to be a deliberate tactic to frustrate Parliament. Or, as the three law lords put it – as you might expect, in a Scottish golfing, or gowfing, term – “stymied” it.

The Government lawyers will surely argue that if it had been the intention then Parliament would have been binned until November 1 and that on the present schedule there is ample space for Commons debate.

The three law lords, all pensioners, aren’t exactly colourful characters, but they have their sparks of interest. Lord Carloway, Colin Sutherland, or the heid bummer as he’s known to his mates on the bench, has a political heritage. His dad was an SNP councillor in Falkirk and he’s the nephew of a former Labour stalwart, the late Donald, Lord Macaulay. He’s also lead vocalist and bass guitarist in the Faculty of Advocates jazz band, The Reclaimers. Reclaim is a fancy word for appeal in the Court of Session.

Lord (Philip Hope) Brodie has fencing as a hobby, which may come in quite useful this week. Lord (James Edward) Drummond Young is a member of the Speculative Society, although of course speculation formed no part of his Brexit judgment, and his main claim to fame, before last week, was that he was a contestant on University Challenge when a student at Cambridge.

Maggie’s message

I missed the live message from Margaret Thatcher on Brexit the other day, but there’s another chance to catch up with her on Thursday as she’ll be speaking from beyond the grave at an event in London hosted by an organisation, or cult, called Happy Science. The spiritualist outfit was founded in Japan by Ryuho Okawa who apparently has a hotline to the afterworld.

You can see him communing with Thatcher on YouTube where s/he seems to be advocating attacking China, condemns France and Germany, and tells us the EU is falling apart. S/he appears also to have lost Denis, as she calls out for him. If they have pubs in hell I’m sure that’s where she can find him. S/he also claims that she was guided in life by Saint Michael who, to the best of my recollection, used to make underpants for Marks & Spencer.

The ethereal Thatcher, who doesn’t have a firm grasp of English, rounds it off by declaring: “I’m not just the Iron Lady, I’m the Hot Iron Lady!”

Crown Jules

Nantes is an extraordinarily interesting and handsome former maritime and mercantile city which has tried to reinvent itself, a bit like Glasgow, if somewhat more successfully. It’s well worth a long weekend, with an excellent and cheap public transport system and more museums, art galleries and monuments (and, of course, restaurants) than you could click an iPhone at. Its most famous son is the father of science fiction, Jules Verne – there’s a museum in his honour and many local landmarks marking his influence.

Verne is the most translated author into English after Agatha Christie and ahead of Shakespeare. What I hadn’t realised is the Scottish influence on him. His mother’s heritage was, apparently, distantly Scottish and five of his novels were set, totally or partly, in Scotland.

The Luath Press has published three new translations of Verne novels and their author Ian Thompson has written Jules Verne’s Scotland, with the paperback coming out next year. A must.

Perhaps Glasgow could honour a famous son (or daughter) like Nantes has done. A Billy Connolly heritage trail, starting at Partick and finishing at the Saracen Head?