Journeys

We've got quite good at preparing for Cruises so, to add a little excitement, we decided to nip over to Switzerland in the week before we sailed. The worst part of that journey was the torrential rain that I had to drive through on the motorway going to Liverpool Airport. Once again we couldn't fault Easyjet, apart from the usual concern about how an organisation that can't make an edible cheese toasty manages to service complex jet engines. Let's hope they have two different departments. Swiss transport is simply awesome and arriving back in Liverpool was like returning to the third world. As we joined the horrendous queue for passport control, the PA system was broadcasting an apology that said the delay was due to a number of planes arriving at the same time. “Bastards” muttered the Scouser behind us, “just turning up like that without letting anyone know”

Thanks to Janet's finely honed check lists we did everything we had to do in the couple days we had back in St Anne's. The “what could possibly go wrong” turned out to be the taxi ride to Preston where we had to catch the coach to Southampton at 6.15 am. In the retirement town of St Anne's, the two things you can usually count on are death and Whiteside's Taxis. We'd booked one for 5.30 and at 5.35 an anxious Janet rang them up to be told “It's not been released from its last job – it'll be another 5 minutes”. Bearing in mind that “he's just turning into your street” is the correct taxi speak for 5 minutes, I thought I'd better ring them back for a bit of a rant. “What you've told my wife isn't acceptable” I said to the dispatcher. “I'm afraid bad news never is” he replied, “otherwise it wouldn't be bad news.” The last thing you want to encounter that early in the morning is a bloody philosopher. Janet, who's good at spotting the danger signs, was mouthing “don't make it worse” as I enquired if he would be taking us to Southampton when we missed the coach. “Whilst you're shouting at me sir, I can't be solving your problem” he replied philosophically.

Our taxi had gone missing and a replacement one finally arrived. The driver turned out to be very good, a quality not always insisted on by Whitesides, and he quickly but safely he got us to the waiting coach with two minutes to spare. All the passengers were wearing their “we had to get here on time so why couldn't you” glares as we mumbled our good mornings but we actually got away spot on 6.15 am. Another journey down a rain drenched motorway but this time it was someone else’s problem.

Dave