What should have been a simple 24 hour return trip turned into a travelling nightmare. Heathrow was closed by snow for much of Thursday so the first flight of the day from London into Toulouse simply didn't arrive. Thankfully,there was a substitute British Airways aircraft that had been stranded in France overnight and we were all loaded onto that. With two loads of passengers it became very,very full which was just as well as it was very,very cold having been parked on the sub-zero apron for twelve hours. Goodness me! How the French passengers gave loud and sustained expression to their joy at discovering that there was a total lack of catering on board . The captain hoped we would get away with a two or three hours weather delay but what no one had counted on was the decision by the French air traffic controllers to chose this particular moment go on strike . We eventually got a take off slot at three and arrived into London in pitch darkness to be met by a lack of buses to deplane us. The atmosphere had turned distinctly revolutionary by the time the steps were wheeled up. So much for getting into town for lunch!
Up at four this morning to head off in a cab to the airport for the first flight back. Twenty years ago I used to be able to bounce on and off planes all day,every day with the nonchalance and vigour of youth. These days I'm ready for a nap by the time I've responded to the whimsical charms of the gauleiters at the security gate.