Still Life: Ataturk

Homeward, it all starts to go pear-shaped when I hit the KLM desk at Ataturk. Europe is snowbound, Schipol closed. Re-routed through London with British Airways and BMI, my suitcase, which travelled Aberdeen-Istanbul as hand luggage without the slightest fuss, is judged a few millimetres oversized by a humourless Turkish harridan and consigned to the hold. Heading for Heathrow Terminal Five, I fear the worst.

words & image: peter thomson