The Garden Station to Rome and back in 365 days (Travel Phase)

The continuing tale of my summer holiday...
For late arrivals, this is the saga of what happens when you spy a holiday opportunity from a TV show.

Humphrey Bogart

There is a quote attributed to Humphrey Bogart goes something like this

"The problem with the world is that everyone is a few drinks behind."

Nowhere is this more apparent than at any airport in the UK in the midst of a holiday season. And Newcastle was no exception. The holiday started early for many expectant tourists including ourselves. I even had a chance to sidle up to one of my work colleague's progeny and put him in fear that the long reach of his Mother might well reach all the way to Magaluf! (it does by the way)

The announcement of our gate for the flight to Rome was made and we stood from our position in the bar, swayed slightly and started to make our way, along with approximately 150 of our fellow travellers. Most of whom had also indulged in a beverage or two. The staff obviously hadn't indulged in a beverage (can't speak for the flight crew!), as a result the quote stands because there is nothing worse than a sober person amongst a group of drinkers. also nothing worse for a sober person than a group of drinkers. The "happy" drinkers are in a completely different place to the staff. And sometimes it shows.

Still, we were at the departure gate and awaiting our boarding instructions. I glanced out of the window and became aware that our plane was not exactly Chameleon like but definitely confused. All the words on the plane spelt "JET2"but the tail insignia showed an insignia I am sure belonged to another company once. I did not make this identification to my Wife. She had already been wound up by a neighbour who pointed out that Jet2 own and operate some of the oldest commercial jet liners in the UK. Not a fact she had wished to be made aware of. There was no point telling her these aircraft are designed for a long life - so they should considering how much they cost!

I find this part of the journey to be the least edifying of my journey. We are penned in like sheep, a few windows available to so that we may watch our luggage being flung about the tarmac. This reminds me of an incidence that occurred to me a few years back in Amsterdam. Follow the link for the details

After what seemed like for ever, whilst nothing very much happened, we were called forward to board our aircraft. My wife gave a reluctant sigh and we joined the throng.

I always marvel at modern aircraft as I cross the threshold of the cabin. It is all calm and smiles as we enter but in a short time the forces of physics that will be exerted on the exterior of the aeroplane are way beyond what a human can experience. The outside temperature is about -60 centigrade and the air is rushing along the fuselage at close to 600 mph. 

Any way back to our flight. We were pretty close to the back of the cabin. I had a window seat and my wife was next to me which was a relief as I was too cheap to cough the extra £5 to ensure we sat together when we booked the flight. I believe Jet2 have won awards as an airline. The cabin was in good shape and belied the aircraft's age. Just as well.

However I did note that the seats were stripped back to the absolute bare minimum as far as structure went. I did wonder whether they had managed to cram another couple of rows in as a result! It felt like one of those parties games I played as a kid. A kind of hide and seek only in reverse where one person hides and then everyone else hunts them down. The difference is that when the hider is found the seeker has to clamber in the same hiding place. Stuck at the back I felt like I was at the end of  very big game of sardines where 150 people had all clambered into the cupboard with me 

Then an announcement came over the public address. It was just the usual "shut up and sit down because we want to get going!" only dressed up as "welcome aboard" type announcement. What intrigued me the first time was that it was preceded by the first few bars of the advert. It was to become something of an albatross around the neck of public announcements for the rest of the flight. ALL public address statements led with this music and by the time we had reached Rome I had heard the refrain at least 20 times. 

Runway 25

We headed up to runway 25, waited for a another jet to land, and then lined up for a our take off run.  I find take off quite exciting. That moment of trepidation when the pilots decide they are going for it, the engine note rises and off we go - we must take off. There is a little fear of the what if...? however. When I see the ground leaving me I am initially quite anxious but soon everything begins to look like Google Earth and I feel much more comfortable. 


The flight travelled down the eastern coast of the leg of Italy and I was able to identify harbours and cites based on my research on the afore mention internet resource. 

Irritating PA jingles aside (and it might just prevent me from travelling with them in the future), the cabin staff were great, My wife HATES flying. with a vengeance. However she does like the destinations when we get there so she goes through it. Fortunately there is medication available and it is called Sauvignon Blanc. Some premeds in  the airport. Followed up by some anaesthetic on the plane and she gets through. I am better but I really cant handle turbulence and that is where I need anaesthetic.

After several anaesthetics the aircraft dipped it's nose and started its descent into Rome Fiumicino airport

Next up...
take the train
Lift problems 
dysfunctional air conditioning
The etiquette of wine tasting

Schiphol and the Golden Shot!

Schiphol airport from the  air

Do you ever wonder how your luggage gets where it's going when you travel by plane?

It is something I care not to think about about too much whilst travelling. Once it rolls down the conveyor belt and drops out of sight with a resounding thud, leaving me wondering in how many pieces my valuables were now in, it is completely out of my hands. I just have to roll up to the carousel at my destination and hope for the best. To be fair I have only lost my luggage once. 

Sometime ago I bought my daughter a shiny new suitcase but the one we collected 8 hours later looked as though it had been dangled from the back of the plane by a rope all the way and struck just about every single blunt object in its path. So perhaps it is better not to inquire!

But I did have an insight when travelling through Amsterdam's Schiphol airport a few years back. I had just arrived back on a "red eye" from the US and guess what? I was a little bleary eyed. The tag line at the time for Schiphol was that all flights were under one roof, no need to change terminals. The result of this (that they didn't tell you) was that you pretty much have to traverse the whole of the Netherlands to reach the gate of your next flight. The plane has already landed in Germany and then taxied all the way back to Amsterdam followed by a forced march up escalators, travelators, past sushi bars, coffee shops and tech stores not to mention fellow travelers

Weary and thirsty after my hike from gate to gate I was assailed with some bad news. Well badish. The flight home was full! However would I like to accept a flight voucher of 150 euros, a flight to Edinburgh instead and a free taxi to my destination. I said yes to all the above

The desk clerk said "Great, thank you very much! now we just have to remove your luggage and send it to the correct flight"
"Fine!" I replied and turned toward a coffee stall I had eyed from a good half mile away as I turned onto the long corridor that led to my gate.
"Ah no, You have to tell us which one it is" She said. My mind raced as I tried to recall the distinguishing features of my suitcase. If I could remember which one I used. I think she could see my jet lagged and sleep deprived mind revolting in the face of such a task.
"You must point it out to us" she said. My mind, grateful at being able to drop the previous task, raced ahead with thoughts of just where and how I would do just that!

At that moment a lad arrived, with an expression not unlike a puppy that just wants to please, holding a radio. He exchanged a few words in what I presumed was Dutch but my language skills are such that I don't recognise English sometimes so it might have been anything. My mind was struggling with imagining just where this lad was going to take me whilst also trying to drag my attention back to the coffee bar.

Fokker 100

Before I could truly begin comprehend what was actually going on, the lad with the radio leapt into action going through a glass doorway and down a set of steps that must of been there before I just hadn't noticed it. 
"Come with me" said the clerk and begun position me at a window from which all I could see was a KLM F100 plane and what looked to my tired eyes a hay wane piled high with luggage. 
Stood next to the hay cart was our puppy eyed friend. He brought his radio to his lips and some words crackled across the airwaves onto the radio that the girl next me was carrying
"Can you see your suitcase?"she asked. I replied in the affirmative and said it looked like it was half way up the pile on the right hand side
"Can you direct him to it?" she asked
"Well I will give it a try" I don't know any Dutch so I thought I probably couldn't but what she meant was that I could relay the instructions to her and she would direct her colleague.

What followed was an episode of a show called the Golden Shot. An early 1970's game show hosted by Bob Monkhouse where callers direct the aim of  crossbow at a target whilst just calling up, down, left, right and fire. 
And so it came to pass that I called 
"Up a bit, left a bit" etc etc. Instead of the cross hairs of a crossbow bolt I had a young lad with an out stretched arm with his index finger pointing at various items of travel paraphernalia. The catch was that there was an inevitable delay from my instruction,to it being interpreted by the clerk, recieved by the bloke on the hay cart and then executed.

It was quite some feat by this lad. He eventually had to start scaling the luggage mountain with his radio in hand and then point at luggage. Not an inconsiderable task.

My yet to be coffee addled brain was struggling with the whole bizarre nature of this event

After a few over fly's we landed on my luggage and then baggage handlers were summoned not only to retrieve my suitcase but the lad on cart also as he had become entangled in some netting around the suitcases. He returned to the departure lounge, eventually, after transferring the case to the cart heading for Edinburgh and received a metaphorical pat on the head from the clerk and he went on his way, no doubt to climb other mountains but also with the applause from the departure lounge ringing in his ears.

The morale of the story is that if you have ever wondered what happens to your luggage when you are in the air spare a thought for the handlers as they may just have moved mountains to get it to you

The Garden Station to Rome and Back in 365 days (Phase one)

The continuing saga of my holidays...

A recap. My wife saw a TV show- liked the scenery. Destination - Italy. I mucked around a bit (on the Internet) whilst on a bus to work from time to time and found hotels and flights and such.

Last time I promised you a taxi driver with a personality bypass. Unfair - I don't know what sort of day or rather night he had had. What became apparent early in the journey however, was that he was the least talkative taxi driver I ever came across. If it hadn't been so unusual I would of enjoyed it. I have had drivers of a broad range of beliefs and bigotry, all of which have attempted to gain one more for their following by describing these beliefs in great detail. 

This lad though just drove. Well, I was almost offended. Was I not good enough to follow what ever path he sought for himself? 

The part of the journey that is just before you actually leave the house is my least favourite moment. It is too late to change any plans so I should be able to relax and enjoy. However there are 2 sayings that cross my mind at this point. 

A chain is only as strong as it's weakest link
What can go wrong will go wrong (dear old Murphy)

All the planning that goes into a holiday, the packing, checking passports are in date, etc etc. and it all comes to a complete stop if you don't actually do something fundamental and actually arrive at the airport. Or forget the tickets (been there)

I booked the taxi over the phone. Dead easy just gave my post code and destination and a rough guide to the price. However the confirmation text only listed the address that was at the top of the list of houses that share our post code. I briefly considered whether this would really matter? I mean the house in question was only five doors up the street so it would be quite easy to leap out of the door and flag the driver down. Good sense got the better of me. I rang the taxi firm and they apologised for the erroneous text and yes they did have the correct door number. I did just wonder how often people jump out of the "wrong" house and demand to be carried somewhere, At 4 in the morning. I just didn't fancy that conversation at that moment at that time of day.

So all good, taxi firm texted me 3 times to tell me the make and model of car, the drivers name and how long until he arrived, The last text arrived shortly after he did but he got the right door. He helped me load the suitcases (not a given quite frankly) and then took a vow of silence for the rest of the journey save for a "thank you" on payment. 

It was a smooth ride to be fair, on our first date myself and my date (now my lovely wife) were nearly wiped out by a taxi driver who thought that having a loaded taxi travelling at speed through the streets of Shields was an ideal moment to see whether his brakes were in need of repair. A moment of joint jeopardy that worked my in favour as we "laughed" about it for months!

Once inside we joined a long queue of luggage, families, fractious children/couples and nearly all dressed for the beach already. 

There is not much more one can say about checking in for any flight. Most of us have done it these days they are pretty much the same where ever I have been. 

The same goes for security checks as we all suspend our personal space issues in the very necessary name of safety.

And so to duty free...

It has been  long time, in my opinion since the term "Duty Free" actually corresponded to any kind of actual deal. Still all those "luxury" goods are thrown at you as you progress to the most important part of the journey, the bar. 

So important have duty free sales become to airports these days it is now impossible to enter Newcastle passenger lounges with out running the gauntlet of aggressive Toblerone displays and itinerant perfume dispensers. My good wife sees it slightly differently I have to say. she enjoys a little wander through the exotic merchandise.


Having gained our consumer fix we arrived in the passenger lounges with bars and restaurants and coffee shops etc. This leads me to a question, and I have researched the answer far and wide (well family, friends and work!). The question is .... At what time is it OK to have an alcoholic beverage when awaiting your holiday flight?

You see it was not quite 6 in the morning and we had a good hour to kill. My research was inconclusive as regards a definitive consensus of opinion on this conundrum.  A lot of people would select a favourite tipple as this was officially the start of the holiday and so it was OK. Some would extend that philosophy to any time of day or night. When awaiting your holiday flight it was "De reiguer" to enjoy an alcoholic beverage of choice. And not just one but not so many you are denied access to your flight. However some respondents found early morning drinking was not suitable for them.

I was of the of the first group as was my wife. She was not getting on the plane without one. So we had two.

Next time .....
A flight of Sardines! Rome! As well as answers to important questions such as "who gets to test the wine?"