I am the kiss of death when it comes to flights - today our attempt to return home was an absolute nightmare.
We got up and breakfasted with Joyce and David, said our goodbyes then packed up having programmed Google Maps to talk me through the journey. We set off and it was all going well but after the first couple of streets nothing looked familiar and I realised this was not the lovely scenic route through Sonning that I had negotiated 10 days ago. In fact it all felt very wrong as we seemed to be heading in the wrong direction and when my lady with the clipped tones resolutely refused to tell me which exit I required at some awful double roundabout I panicked. I had clearly chosen the most urban route possible which took me through the largest amount of roadworks and it wasn't letting me down. Eventually the road signs seemed to indicate we were travelling in the right direction as we could see mention of the M25 at long last - this was our promised land!!! The Junction where we joined said M25 motorway had seven lanes converging into three and everything was at a standstill so it was a good job we had set off with plenty of time to spare. This was one aspect of the UK that I have not missed and it transpired that the miles of queues on our side had been caused by an accident and people rubbernecking, so once we passed it all was ok but then there was a tailback on the other side as people were gawking across.
We arrived at South Terminal and then drove around to find the petrol station to fill up and grab some sandwiches. Getting the promised Assistance from the car hire place was tedious but eventually Rupert arrived to escort us through the crowds and get us both to North Terminal on the day when the air traffic controllers in France were on strike. As a result flights were rerouted, delayed and even cancelled and because of that the terminal was in chaos.
I managed to get our bags checked in choosing to deposit our hand luggage in the hold for £5 - this is the hands-free service offered by EasyJet and as I already had a bag checked in seemed a good idea as I didn't have to struggle with bags and mum and the hands-free service also gives you speedy boarding.
At North Terminal Simon Peter took care of mum taking her to the designated seating area and we waited. Our flight was apparently on time and scheduled to leave at 15.20 but then it all went pear-shaped as we were clearly going to be delayed. At one point we were called down to a gate but then got told there was no aircraft and no crew so were turned back.
Eventually we were called on board only to be told that we had missed our slot and the next one would be in more than three hours' time and because of that the crew would have to be replace and at that point there was none available. Thank goodness this was brought forward and we managed to leave before a crew change was necessary. Not being sexist but our all male crew were bloody useless. The refreshment trolley took over 2 hours to get from row 15 to our row which was row 30 by which time I could have eaten my right arm. Things were not helped by the fact that no-one had heard the mumbled announcement that a soft drink and snack were to be given free of charge so people were busy ordering a meal-deal to get best value for money and the cabin crew were having to work out which bit they were going to have to pay for. On the plus side the interminable wait meant that half the flight had passed by the time we got to eat.
This is the potted version - it probably doesn't sound that bad a trip but believe me it was the worst I have experienced. Rather than getting home around 10.00pm we finally flopped into bed at 2.30am the next day muttering 'never again'.
We got up and breakfasted with Joyce and David, said our goodbyes then packed up having programmed Google Maps to talk me through the journey. We set off and it was all going well but after the first couple of streets nothing looked familiar and I realised this was not the lovely scenic route through Sonning that I had negotiated 10 days ago. In fact it all felt very wrong as we seemed to be heading in the wrong direction and when my lady with the clipped tones resolutely refused to tell me which exit I required at some awful double roundabout I panicked. I had clearly chosen the most urban route possible which took me through the largest amount of roadworks and it wasn't letting me down. Eventually the road signs seemed to indicate we were travelling in the right direction as we could see mention of the M25 at long last - this was our promised land!!! The Junction where we joined said M25 motorway had seven lanes converging into three and everything was at a standstill so it was a good job we had set off with plenty of time to spare. This was one aspect of the UK that I have not missed and it transpired that the miles of queues on our side had been caused by an accident and people rubbernecking, so once we passed it all was ok but then there was a tailback on the other side as people were gawking across.
We arrived at South Terminal and then drove around to find the petrol station to fill up and grab some sandwiches. Getting the promised Assistance from the car hire place was tedious but eventually Rupert arrived to escort us through the crowds and get us both to North Terminal on the day when the air traffic controllers in France were on strike. As a result flights were rerouted, delayed and even cancelled and because of that the terminal was in chaos.
I managed to get our bags checked in choosing to deposit our hand luggage in the hold for £5 - this is the hands-free service offered by EasyJet and as I already had a bag checked in seemed a good idea as I didn't have to struggle with bags and mum and the hands-free service also gives you speedy boarding.
At North Terminal Simon Peter took care of mum taking her to the designated seating area and we waited. Our flight was apparently on time and scheduled to leave at 15.20 but then it all went pear-shaped as we were clearly going to be delayed. At one point we were called down to a gate but then got told there was no aircraft and no crew so were turned back.
Eventually we were called on board only to be told that we had missed our slot and the next one would be in more than three hours' time and because of that the crew would have to be replace and at that point there was none available. Thank goodness this was brought forward and we managed to leave before a crew change was necessary. Not being sexist but our all male crew were bloody useless. The refreshment trolley took over 2 hours to get from row 15 to our row which was row 30 by which time I could have eaten my right arm. Things were not helped by the fact that no-one had heard the mumbled announcement that a soft drink and snack were to be given free of charge so people were busy ordering a meal-deal to get best value for money and the cabin crew were having to work out which bit they were going to have to pay for. On the plus side the interminable wait meant that half the flight had passed by the time we got to eat.
This is the potted version - it probably doesn't sound that bad a trip but believe me it was the worst I have experienced. Rather than getting home around 10.00pm we finally flopped into bed at 2.30am the next day muttering 'never again'.
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