Flying from Barcelona to London should be a piece of cake. How stupid can I get?
I had been spending a few days in Barcelona and was returning to London. Since my flight wasn't until 18.15 pm, I had plenty of time, so I suggested to my family, that we would go for a delicious Spanish lunch before we said our goodbyes. On retrospect, I realize now, that perhaps that was not a good idea. In Spain, the locals take their meals at a leisurely pace. Needless to say, by the time we had finished, it was cutting it fine to catch the train to the airport.
Of course when we arrived at the station, and amid loads of hugs and kisses, I was able to glimpse the darn train slowly leaving the platform. The ticket lady smilingly informed me that I would have to wait another thirty minutes to catch the next one. At this point, I was only slightly concerned and most certainly not smiling like the ticket lady!
Well, the train finally arrived, but to my horror, I discovered that It had three speeds! SLOW, DEAD SLOW, AND STOP, please note! When I say "STOP" I don't mean at the stations! I mean just any old place on the track. As you can imagine, by this time I was starting to get pretty anxious. I began to pray that the plane would be delayed (Careful what you wish for Backpacker Granny)
At long last, I got to the airport only to discover that I then had to get the shuttle bus to the other terminal. Why do the airports in Spain make their terminals so far away from each other? And why is it that when we are in a hurry the whole world contrives to delay you as much as possible?
By now, I was in a complete hysterical state; I hated the bus driver who so obviously was not in a rush to reach the departures. ( I did wonder if he was related to the train driver) Do you remember the Gremlins that ate after midnight? That was me! Swearing and cursing under my breath and hating anyone who could prevent me from getting off the bus FIRST.
What has been worrying me was passing through security as it takes forever, but obviously, the Gods were finally on my side! There were hardly any people and whoopee,
In a flash, I managed to reach the departure gates! My son who was meeting me in London had asked me to let him know if there was a delay. Because we were boarding straight away, I messaged him to say "On time."
Without any more ado, the passengers and myself were happily seated and prepared for takeoff
Observation, I wonder why Vueling refuels the plane while people are on board? Is it to save time? I must say, It always gives me food for thought, when they tell you NOT to fasten your seat belt! Is that in case the lousy plane catches fire, and we all have to race off as fast a possible?
Well, there we were waiting and waiting and waiting! As the minutes ticked by, I then messaged my son to say "15 mins delay." Then I messaged again "25 mins delay." after 25 mins we heard the famous "Good evening Ladies and Gentlemen; this is your Captain speaking." When you hear this before takeoff, you know for sure that you ain't going anywhere in a rush! Well, we weren't! Apparently, due to weather conditions, none of the planes could leave. According to our "Captain speaking" we were number fifteen in the queue, and he calculated that we would be another half an hour.
Once again I sent another message to my son. "30 mins more delay."
Now let's be honest here. One thing is waiting in the airport because of a delayed flight, where at least you can wander around, have a drink or something to eat, but when you are like a trapped rat in an elongated capsule it is not nice and as dull as hell! The passenger next to me
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