I love Doha airport

Having - very reluctantly - to face returning home to the UK this morning and leaving my beloved Timebandit behind, I had to run the gamut of the airport. As if not seeing my man for another 7 weeks wasn't bad enough, a 7 hour flight lay ahead. But what joy when I discovered the efficiency, speed and ease of the system at the airport. No queues, no waiting, no delays (and Qatar Airways didn't charge me for my excess baggage either, fair play. Who would have thought that 2 fluffy camels would weigh so much.....?). All the staff were courteous and helpful, the atmosphere light and friendly.
The flight passed quickly, and we arrived in London ahead of schedule. However, little did I know that the real nightmare had not been avoided - only postponed. It soon appeared in the guise of the bad dream known as 'Heathrow Terminal 3'. After disembarking we had to walk 3000 miles (could have been more - I stopped counting after a million paces, because my pedometer had smoke coming out of it) to the arrivals area, then another few hundred to find the correct baggage carousel. Staff were, shall we say, less than helpful. As if that wasn't enough, we were then treated at the carousel to a taste of one of the UK's best cultural traditions - a dazzling display of 'which of us lads on this stag do is the most drunk and can do the most stupid things'. The expression on the faces of the Qataris who had travelled to the UK for a holiday said it all. After 9 days in Doha and experiencing at first hand the gentleness and good manners of everyone there, boy, was I embarrassed to be British today.......