We're going on a holiday, we booked it last September. We're flying Budget Airways , we hope that they remember. We've booked two seats behind the wing, it's safer there you see, So if we have to get out quick, the exit's right by me.
We turned up at the airport ,three hours before the flight. We had to have our bags packed in the middle of the night. We parked our car in aisle ten, blue zone, ninety four. We had to go back twice to check that we had locked the door.
We heaved our cases on the bus that shuttles round the cars. We had to stand and hang on tight to yellow coloured bars. We're pushed and shoved and rolled around at terrifying speed, with our face against a poster that says comfort's guaranteed.
We rolled up at the terminal and shuddered to a halt. But the doors then failed to open, there seemed to be a fault. The driver got quite stroppy and rolled out of his cab, and with a large screwdriver, gave the doors a frightening jab.
We poured on to the concrete, with suitcases in tow.
Handles all retracted, we are dragged on by the flow. We are faced with rows of check in gates to places far away. We searched to find the one that's ours, we didn't have all day.
With queues of anxious people all wanting to check in. Winding round a maze of ropes, to Oslo or Berlin. Pushing on their cases, shuffling slowly in a line, hoping that they'll make it through and not run out of time.
We found our Budget Airways was running one hour late. But we had to check our luggage in, so we settled in to wait. It took us forty minutes until it finally was our turn. We rummaged for our passports, the lady looked quite stern.
She asked if we had packed our bags or left them unattended. (If she was friends on FaceBook, I think she'd be unfriended). She eyed us up like criminals standing quietly in the dock. and checked our zips and labels, not caring for the clock.
We put the cases on the track so she could check their weight. The numbers were all flashing up at an alarming rate. We passed the test and off they went to load up on our plane, first thrown with gay abandon to a passing luggage train.
We headed for departures with boarding cards in hand, security was waiting to check for all things that banned. We drank up all the water, took off our coats and shoes. They have the right to search you, so either way you lose.
We watched with fascination as some left for Alicante. A group of noisy youngsters in clothes all bright and scanty. And then the ones for Zurich dressed up for lots of snow, sweating in their jumpers with faces all aglow.
When finally it was our turn we queued again to board. You get on first with fast track, but not many can afford. But they won't get there faster, they have to wait for us. I can't see why they do it, it's never worth the fuss.
And now we are excited because our holiday's begun. Seven days of sunshine, seven days of fun. And when it is all over we'll get back in the queue, then check our Trip Advisor and send off a nice review. Jan Millward©