Our fortnight in glorious Italy finally came to an end a few days ago with a very damp landing at Manchester Airport.
A few days earlier we were blasting up and down the lake on a hired boat, which went surprisingly fast, jumping the wake of ferries with consummate ease, whoops of joy coming from the front where Olivia had placed herself to catch the spray from the waves and Oscar taking control of the steering and throttle! I must admit to having had a brilliant time, which was one of the many highlights of our holiday with an added bonus that no one fell off, although I made a pigs ear of bringing her into port. Trying to copy a manoeuvre I had seen the young guy make dozens of times while watching from the lakeside restaurants. My manoeuvre didn't quite look the same when I did it and the old guy was shouting in Italian for me to put it in neutral or reverse or forward, well whatever it was we eventually made it to the quayside amongst laughter from the kids and a few other spectators that had gathered to watch the show. After a swift exit to the nearest eatery it was all laughable to me too. I am just glad no body caught it on video!
We had a couple, with a young lad and toddler girl in the room below us for the past week that were up at the crack of dawn banging around, shouting in their Middlesborough accent to one another. They were friendly enough and their beautiful little girl had Debra cooing a few times as she sang Bah Bah Black Sheep and other nursery rhymes to her mum, but they just talked incessantly to one another and anyone else that happened to catch their eye.
The day before we were due to fly home I took our football down to the young lad for him to have for the rest of his holiday. His dad popped up and started chatting away saying thanks but they won't get much use out of it as they were off home tomorrow. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. They were from Middlesborough, surely they have flown from Newcastle and were going back there. To my horror he was happy to inform me that they were on the same flight as us to Manchester, where they were going to pick a hire car up for there journey home, before he got into his stride I made a hasty retreat and shot upstairs to inform Debra of our travel companions. I think that is why she wanted to get sloshed on our final night!
The day of our homeward journey arrived and we were all packed and ready for the off with our cases stored in the reception area by 10am. We got in the hotel Minibus for our last taste of Garda and had one last walk along the lake front to the beautiful hotel we had found that made the most wonderful coffee and croissants. We sat and had elevensies, which melted into lunch and before we knew it we were in a taxi on our way back to the hotel to gather our bags and await the coach. There were a fair few people leaving on Saturday and our Geordie friends were content talking to whoever would listen and we were content not catching their gaze. Right on time a coach trundled up and the (far too) friendly rep jumped off. It was like a scene from the charge of the light brigade as everyone launched themselves for the coach with bags in hand trying to get a good seat. As she checked off each name the crowd thinned and suddenly it dawned on me that the coach in question wasn't our coach. It shut it's doors on us and made its way down the street in a cloud of dust. As the dust settled there were us and another family left behind. Yes you guessed it. There was no where to look to avert our eyes from his stare. He came over and started yammering about how he was so happy not to be the only ones left behind. Thankfully our coach was only minutes behind and the seats that were left were spread out. He sat next to a young girl who I felt very sorry for by the time we had reached the airport.
We managed to make it through the check in, passport control, departure lounge and even the flight without meeting up, except for a few hair raising occasions when they could have turned our way in the departure lounge but went off the other way. The flight was perfect, the landing smooth and the weather bloody awful! We even had to climb down the steps and run through the rain to get into terminal 3 ....brrrrrrrr. Waiting at the carousel our bags emerged one after the other. This was going to be a breeze I could feel it in my bones. All of a sudden the people had gone and there was a similar bag to the one we hadn't received yet trundling around all on its lonesome. Some dip shit had taken our bag by mistake! How on earth they could have mistaken our bag for theirs is beyond me as their bag was floppy and half empty, weighing next to nothing, where as our bag was crammed packed full to bursting point, weighing as much as a baby elephant! It never ceases to amaze me just how thick some people are. There was nothing we could do about it, we reported it to the lost luggage department and filled out the obligatory forms whilst being reassured that it would turn up. To my shear astonishment the Middlesborough family were still in the area, he inquired about our luggage and then thankfully turned his attention on the pilot who was walking by with the cabin crew, telling him all about our luggage problems. We didn't hang around and left them to it.
Pissing down, waiting for a cab with one less bag was not the way I envisaged our return. The next thing we were in the house filling the kettle to the brim looking forward to a decent cup of tea or three.
One of our three remaining bags opened and the first half tonne of washing sorted, it was now time to come back down to earth with a bump! What a time for the washing machine to go on the fritz. The kitchen, conservatory and lounge piled high with holiday clothes. A washing machine making noises that wouldn't be out of place in a horror movie wasn't our idea of a wonderful home coming. Straight online to order a new machine, the piles moved out of the way and a decent brew in hand made it a little easier to bare.
Debra was straight down to Tesco to buy the last book in the 50 Shades trilogy, which I had stupidly left out of her holiday reading material. The first two books had been consumed in no time at all throughout our holiday giving us plenty of peace and quiet as she skimmed through the pages like a mad librarian. I have never seen books read so fast.
Maybe I should read them next?


No comments:
Post a Comment