Utter Chaos

 Back at it with the blogs!

After a Covid centred summer back in the pride land of Worcestershire, I made it back to Pontevedra... and what a palav that was!

Eight o'clock on a sunny Thursday morning in September, Bill being kind enough to drive me all the way to Stansted for my afternoon flight so that he and the Theo can have a night in London before Theo goes off to Uni on the Saturday. What could possibly go wrong?

Well, if I fill you in on a few things before I carry on, you might not be as confident as I was:

1. The whole family missed their flight from Stansted in November 2019 for Theo's 18th birthday because of an accident on the M25. Disaster. 

2. When Bill and Theo finally managed to make it to Pontevedra in March this year, the whole country went in to lockdown due to a global pandemic - I'm sure you're aware of it. 

So, the Houchin's and Pontevedra have a bit of a love/hate relationship due to the curse that we've decided is on us. The positive people reading might think of the very common phrase third time lucky and I appreciate the optimism , but no. We made it to the airport with time to spare and the boys came with me to check in my luggage and say goodbye. Should have been easy, if the self check-in accepted my card to pay £44 to account for 4 pounds of excess luggage. After that extortionate dent in my bank account was mourned, I said goodbye to the boys and good luck to Theo for Saturday and went through security. 

Easy, I was through in no time. I'm getting quite good at it now. I settle myself on one of the many seats in front of the board covered with gate information and pull out my book. An hour and a half before the gate information is revealed. Perfect. 

Fast forward, I've been to WHSmiths and bought a meal deal for the flight, know what gate I need to get to and am on my way with half an hour before the gate closes. I'll whizz through the following thirty minutes quickly or I'll get annoyed about it all over again and go off on a rant for three pages:

Airport Woman: Hello

Me: Hi

HAND OVER MY PASSPORT AND BOARDING PASS BECAUSE I'M VERY GOOD AT THIS NOW.

Airport Woman: Lovely. Right do you have your QR code? You should have had an email from... Spain or something telling you to fill something out for them to regulate COVID. 

Me: CONFIDENTLY HANDING OVER MY PRINTED TRACK AND TRACE FORM THAT SPAIN SENT ME. Yes, I do.

Airport Lady: Okay, is this all it gave you?

Me: Yes.

Airport Lady: Okay, there's no QR code so you'll have to check your email. Scooch over and have a look while I carry on working. (She was very nice)

Me: SEARCH MY EMAILS FOR THE CODE THAT I SHOULD HAVE. ASK ANOTHER AIRPORT WORKER WHERE I MIGHT BE ABLE TO FIND IT

Airport Man: I have no idea.

Me: Brilliant. 

CHECK THE TIME. FIFTEEN MINUTES LEFT. ONLY ME LEFT IN THE QUEUE 

Airport Woman: Any luck?

Me: JUST FINISHED REFILLING MY INFORMATION FOR AT LEAST THE FIFTH TIME. Please witness that I'm not being a melon and look at this. 

GREEN BAR SHOWS SAYING email sent

Me: Please look through my emails and see if you can see it. 

Airport Woman: LOOKS THROUGH MY EMAILS. Can I check your spam folder?

Me: If you get me on the plane you can check whatever you like. Have a look through Instagram if you need to!

Airport Woman: CARRIES ON SCANNING THROUGH MY PHONE. Hold on a minute. GOES TO ANOTHER OLDER AIRPORT MAN AND HANDS HIM MY PHONE

Older Airport Man: SHAKES HIS HEAD AND TAKES MY PHONE

Me: STANDS BY POLITELY AS HE SHOWS THE CONTENTS OF MY EMAILS TO THE FIRST AIRPORT MAN WHO ALSO SHAKES HIS HEAD. MY PHONE IS RETURNED. 

Me: CHECKS WATCH

Airport Woman: Try filling out the form again quickly. 

Airport Man: Five minutes.

Me: SHOVES MY SANDWICH AND CRISPS INTO THE WOMAN'S HANDS AND GRABS MY PHONE.

Airport Woman: DROPS MY SANDWICH

Me: FURIOUSLY TYPING. Is it okay?

Airport Woman: What?

Me: LOOKING UP. The sandwich.

Airport Woman: Odd priority.

Me: LOOKING BACK AT MY PHONE. Is it okay though?

Airport Woman: LAUGHS

Me: CONFUSED ABOUT WHAT COULD POSSIBLY BE FUNNY

Airport Man: Three minutes.

Stranger: Give it here. 

Me: HANDS OVER MY PHONE AND WATCHES AS HE LOOKS THROUGH MY EMAILS. I probably shouldn't give things away that easily. 

Airport Woman: You gave me your sandwich.

Me: And look where that ended up!

Stranger: You need to fill in the form again.

Me: I've done it eight times!

Airport Man: Two minutes.

Me: TAKES MY PHONE. Bloody hell. 

FURIOUSLY TYPING

Airport Man: One minu-

Me: Thank you! TO THEM ALL. Help me check my emails!

All: HUNCHED OVER MY PHONE

Airport Man: Can't see it.

Older Airport Man: Nor me.

Stranger: Not there. 

Airport Woman: Definitely not. 

Me: Shit on it. 

Plane: STARTS TO LEAVE. 

Have you ever had to walk backwards through departures and find your way through to the luggage claim to find your bag that you've been told made it off the plane. It isn't easy. After wandering round for too long, trying to find the right door, asking three different people, all while dejectedly staring at the mayonnaisey state that was now my sandwich - I found myself in front of a fire door. 

Completely unconvinced that this is where I should be, I decide the best way to get back at Ryanair, Stansted or Spain - whoever is responsible for my lack of email - is to just walk through the fire exit and not regret anything if it sets off an alarm.

"Excuse me."

"I wasn't going to go through it!" 

I spin round and come face to... chest with the most intimidating security man I've ever seen. 

"What?"

"What?"

As he asks if I've missed my flight and offers to show me where to go.As I follow, a meek looking mouse of a woman appears at my side and follows the man with me. I found out that this woman was on her way to visit her daughter in Chile (I think, I was only half listening because I was still annoyed at the state of my sandwich... and the flight) but she decided not to get on the flight because there was a bad weather warning. She then proceeded to tell me all about her life even after the mammoth security man left us, I'd picked up my bag and spoken to the Ryanair help desk to see if there was any way I could get my £44 from earlier refunded seeing as my bag isn't actually on it's way to Spain. There was not. Even as I was walking towards the door, I was being told about her latest trip to her psychic - psychiatrist? Can't remember. 

"Well!" I was definitely too loud and too enthusiastic for it to have been a polite interruption. "It was lovely to meet you, but I best be off. I hope everything goes well for you." Short and sweet. 

Here goodbye lasted until I'd actually walked out of the door. I'm now clued in to the fact that she's a Sagittarius, her daughter's marital status, the fact that her son is gay and that she has a doctors appointment on the 17th October. 

No idea what her name was. 

Despite the chaos of the day, it wasn't all bad in the end. I ended up meeting the boys in London and having a nice send off for Theo that included offensively expensive drinks, a steak to die for and an enthusiastic compliment on my outfit - which made the whole situation worth it in the end. And there was a very convenient flight out the next morning, so really it was only my bank account and sandwich that really felt the pain of the experience.