Our Holiday Ends But We Still Have A Few Mishaps

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?

WiFi Access At Last

The lake is just as wonderful as I remember her from sixteen years earlier, when Olivia was still inside Debra's belly, being patted by all the friendly Italians saying "Ahh Bambini". Now she is a beautiful young woman turning Italian heads as she walks by. Not that she notices any of that nonsense of course!

Our flight took off on time and lasted a mere one hour forty minutes, which was just about durable for Debra as she has an innate fear of sitting in an aluminium tube doing unnatural things such as flying. The helter-skelter landing at Verona airport didn't do anything to quell those anxieties though and I must admit to having one or two thoughts that she might actually be right about it as we were parallel to the ground hurtling towards us as we turned what seemed like 360 degrees. Once the wheels touched the runway safely all such thoughts went right out of my head forever.... Depending how hair raising our return flight is!

The attendants on our flight and coach journey must have taken their inspiration from reality TV programmes of the day. Firstly there was our ever so gay, ignorant and so far up his own arse flight attendant who had finger nails that any diva would be proud of and wouldn't be out of place on such shows as Big Brother or Airport. I know that our flight was only short but the speed he brought out the trolley's was mind boggling! My hand had only just recovered from its onslaught of squeezing and turning pink as the blood flowed back into its veins when the first trolley arrived touting booze, which was a very welcome sight indeed. Once our drop down tables had been suitably filled with extortionately priced alcoholic beverages doled out by the diva himself it rocketed along the isle dishing out this, that and the other to the bewildered holiday makers.

After a few gulps from the miniature can of lager the diva was there again, trolley in hand, looking down his pointy nose at us for being typical 'Brits On A Plane' types. He asked us if we wanted a complimentary meal to which I replied that we had payed thirty quid to be provided with food on the flight and he smirked as he told me that the only food is what he was dishing out and it was complimentary! It was a good job that my seatbelt was still attached and my tray full of booze as I wanted so much to punch his lights out! The so called meal consisted of some sort of congealed mush on a soggy roll, a KitKat (two fingers) and a dodgy bakewell tart flavoured oat bar, which could well have been used to mop up the Exon Valdise oil spill all those years ago and was probably produced around the same time. Being a captive audience and in need of something to soak up the alcohol I ate everything in front of me including the kids complimentary meals too. The bakewell tart bar lived up to my expectation and swelled up in my stomach soaking everything up.....no need for Diacalm tablets as yet!! The rubbish was collected in a whirlwind of over scented diva and plastic bin liner before the last morsel reached my gullet and the next trolley arrived selling all sorts of airline logo tat and god knows what else as it wasn't there long enough to notice!

Travelling over the Alps at thirty five thousand feet is an experience to behold and keep within your memory for many years to come. The sight of snow covered peaks poking through soft cotton wool like clouds was breathtaking and made me forget what I had just ate.

Once we had thankfully recovered all our luggage and walked out from the air conditioned arrivals hall into the baking oven of an Italian afternoon we found our coach and sat there sweltering waiting for the usual stragglers that were still stood at the carousel urging their bags to emerge from behind the rubber curtain. Everyone desperate for the engine to crank into life and the air conditioning to begin blowing life saving cool air over us. Eventually we were under way and the air was cooled sufficiently for us to be able to appreciate the beauty outside. The attendant was also very camp and obviously takes his inspiration from the tour guide on the Channel 4 Coach Trip programmes everything except the amount of hair on his head was similar. But he kept the crowd entertained while the coach travelled along the lakeside. Thankfully we were second drop off, which is a story for my next blog as I am becoming very dehydrated here by the poolside.

Thankfully wifi access is is perfect in the bars of the hotel. As if I ever doubted it would be so!!

Keep on looking for my blog and happy holidays.

The Adventure Begins

Why do we think that any country outside the boundary of our white cliffs is a waste land, devoid of civilised society and everyday common all garden goods?

I found myself packing over a kilo of bacon this morning in a cool bag, inserted inside a suitcase. What was I thinking when I squashed two packs of weetabix inside another suitcase that was already bursting at the seams? Thankfully I stopped short of packing our last remaining Heinz Baked Beans tins. Only because there was literally no where for them to go!

After applying my common sense about the beans I then had to negotiate the stairs with four large, extremely heavy cases. Where's that weight lifter belt when you need it??

Two minutes before the taxi turns up and Olivia, who had been sprawled out on the settee while the mayhem gathered pace around her, suddenly piped up asking where her white converse trainers were. Debra in a state of what can only be described as mind blowing anxiety told her they had been packed away last night while she had been out roaming the streets. All hell breaks loose once again with olivia insisting on routing through the cases to find the only shoes that will go with the outfit she has chosen to fly in. Very Calmly (not) I instructed Olivia to go away and find something else to wear!

I think the taxi driver has developed a hernia after lugging our cases in his boot.

Things have gone surprisingly well since arriving at the airport, except for the guy behind us in queue to check in letting go of his case, which toppled over, scraping its way to the ground along Debra's calf and ankle .....ouch! She kept her cool and bottled up her outburst until later, when to expect it I can't say but I am sure it will come. I thought it might come when she kept making the metal detector beep and had to stand prostrate in the body scanner but she kept it together well and now she is happily shopping in the departures lounge as I am typing away on my phone, interspersed with a glug or two of the amber nectar!

Keep your eyes peeled for further exploits from the family Mangini as we venture to Lake Garda and Venice.

Happy Holidays!!