I forgot to tell you about the weird journey back here on the plane.
Just twelve days ago and it feels like a year…
We checked our luggage in at Alicante, went for a coffee and Dave looked at the boarding passes to see which aisle we were in. Turned out WE weren’t. Mine was row 9 and Dave’s was row 30. Get that, I mean it wasn’t as if we were stood at check in having an argument. We went back to make sure, and apparently the plane was full. She wasn’t kidding.
So there I was sat in my window seat watching the view, whilst monitoring the ailerons and flaps on the wings were all in the right place at the right time. I know ALL about how they work and why, Dave used to build the darn things, and has bored me to sleep on many occasions with a running commentary.
Meanwhile he sat in an aisle seat down the back end somewhere. Several times during the flight we
waved farewell waved to each other, just to make sure we were both still on the same aircraft, and this wasn’t some kind of surreal “out of body” experience…
Fortunately Dave likes the aisle seat so he doesn’t have to bother anyone when he goes for a pee. I prefer a window seat, and couldn’t give a toss about who has to move out the way. (Desperate for the loo half way through the flight, the air hostesses had to move their trolley out the way too). There we were dancing in the aisle around each other for a while. On the way back to my seat, someone even had to wait for their plastic food to be dished out, (while I wandered past after freeing a wee).
An old couple came and sat next to me, they were very nice and thought I was on my own. I don’t think they believed that my husband was near the tail end somewhere till he suddenly appeared for a visit. “So you’re still here then?” Says he. “No I got off a while back when we flew out over the med,” says me.
Well at least it gave the
odd old couple a laugh, they hadn’t spoken to each other till then.
However, there was a bit of a ding dong before take off, because she had a bag the size of a large hand luggage case, only it was a squashy one, colour co-ordinated to match her trousers. So she just sat it down on the floor in front of her and stuck her knees over it. I asked her if she was going to put it in the locker or under the seat in front, and she answered “Oh no, I always do this, it’s full of fruit and veg for the family.” What??? How did she get such contraband through customs and X-ray??? Guaranteed if I tried that it would be a case of:
“Here’s your fine missus, oh and you’re banned from coming back.”
“But we’ve just bought a house.”
“I said “Bugger off.”
[They speak English if they need to]
So when the lady next door told me about her secret kneecap disguise, my first thought was all about “How the hell am I going to get out for the mandatory wee?” Secondary in my mind was more important, the emergency exit if required, how was I going to escape??? It could be a case of life or death depending on which direction a cucumber was facing…
I snitched and told the air hostess about the blockage, forget her fruit and veg market stall, it was naughty on two counts. She was told in no uncertain terms to put it under the seat in front of her, but it still stuck out a bit.
Once the frosty atmosphere had dissipated we got talking, turned out they also have a house in Spain and dread going back to the UK. So we had a lot in common then, well no, not really, but I kept the poor woman laughing.
Going back in time to the mandatory wee which caused turbulence originating from inside of the plane. Stone cold sober I tripped over her goody bag that peeked out from under the seat, and in the process hurt my back…
Believe me she wasn’t kidding about the contents of her squishy luggage, the “happy couple” disembarked into the UK gloom before I could. And there they were, two (real) tomatoes sat on the floor staring at me. So I really hoped her OUTSIZE handbag had a hole in it…
Meantime, I had a “hole” in my back, and it’s only today it felt strong enough to straighten out proper. So I got
a solicitor “Davina on DVD” and we did a tentative workout together.
The moral of the story: Always check in super early (we weren’t even late), to avoid being allocated a seat next door to a little old dear with a veg fetish and false kneecaps…