A fly got on the plane at Porto and was still merrily buzzing around when we got to Stansted.
The fly could fly off the plane, but we couldn't; there was nobody at the gate to let us in, and the crew didn't have permission to land, so we waited on the plane for half an hour and some people got cross until the captain put the air conditioning back on.
Thirty one degrees?
The missing gate person was at home sunbathing, innit!
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