3 Aug


I was psyched up for the early start, awake before the alarm went off. There wasn’t much to pack in the first place, even less on the morning itself. Yet somehow I still managed not to be ready for our planned leaving time. It’s not that I didn’t want to leave exactly, this was a temporary departure after all, but rather I was savouring the final moments. Like you do.

I needn’t have worried. Not only did Neil get me there in plenty of time but I was checked in with no queue at a self service point that I didn’t have to do myself, walked straight through security without having to take a thing out of my bag and found the gate without difficulty. It was only at this point things went pear shaped.

Settled down near the allocated gate with a book and free wifi, as the boarding time approached I thought I’d pay a last visit to the ladies room. Passing a rare flight board en route I glanced at the Manchester details. “Delayed”. Four hours. No announcement, no explanation, nothing. Just another gate number some some distance in time and space away. Ah well. It looked like I’d got the time, anyway.

Not to moan too much (OK, I did at the time), it was all pretty straightforward after that although my purse was more than averagely lighter from the purchase of a cheese and tomato bagette. The flight was good, the taxi driver waiting for me (Alex no longer able to pick me up thanks to the delay) and he came equipped with a large umbrella. Yes, it was raining in Manchester.


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