Flying home – 11 August 2022

There isn’t much you can say about going home, other than that it’s usually very carefully orchestrated by P&O and Jet2. Usually

We left our bags outside the cabin last night and knew they’d be picked up and taken away by midnight. The next time we’d see them would be when we took them off the carousel at Glasgow Airport. We were ushered into one of the restaurants after breakfast and waited there until our buses were ready to take us to the airport. Then the rain came. Torrential rain. The staff wouldn’t allow us to go to the coaches because it was raining! Why couldn’t they just bring the buses to the bottom of the gangway and allow us to leave? No, they couldn’t do that. Were they frightened someone might slip and be injured and they’d be sued? Possibly. Eventually they had to let us go.

We passed through security quickly this time because I’d organised all my camera gear and electronic gadgets plus my laptop into easily manageable chunks and it all passed muster. Then we were through and almost immediately we were given the gate number.

Fairly pleasant flight home until one baby at the front of the plane started screaming its head off. I don’t know if the mother was deaf or just didn’t care, but I kept thinking about the scene in Airplane where all the passenger queue up to slap the hysterical woman. It wasn’t the wean that we’d be queueing up to slap, but the mother.

Finally we landed in Glasgow and the next calamity occurred. The person who drives the ‘airbridge’ couldn’t get it aligned correctly with the door and was attempting a second run at it, but then the airbridge broke down and wouldn’t reverse. Eventually they solved the problem by bringing in a set of steps manually. I think everyone was happy to get off that plane. It must be the first time we’ve arrived in Glasgow and our cases were in the reclaim carousel before us!

Driving home the traffic was terrible on both the M8 and the M74. I opted for the M8 which was the wrong decision. It took us an hour to get over the Kingston Bridge because some poor soul had broken down just past the bridge on the part of the motorway that has two lanes now instead of four. That meant only one lane in four was in use. We did get home, but it felt that everything that could go wrong, did go wrong.

As soon as we got the bags and cases in, we did our tests. I was negative, but Scamp was positive as she’d expected. At least we were home.

PoD was two street cleaners sweeping up Valletta’s streets this morning.

Tomorrow will be another day.

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