It’s 6 pm and I am exhausted. I have walked the length and depth of two huge ships in the pouring rain and freezing temperatures. But…….I feel exuberant……like I just discovered that Jessica Simpson is waiting for me at home wearing a nurse’s uniform and holding a thermometer.
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I already had told myself that my Easy Jet flight from London to Venice was never going to take off on time. There was more chance of Royal Caribbean calling me saying “Hey John, thanks for all the kind words about our ships, as a reward we want to offer you a job as CD at $50,000 a day, an Aston Martin and Jessica Simpson in a big bowl of Jell-O.”…………However, when I arrived and saw the delayed notice next to my flight number …….I said a very loud “bugger.”

“What’s the problem this time?” I inquired with the world-weary resignedess (yes, that is a word) of someone who has heard it all before. Technical problems? Sheep on the runway? …..”No,” said the 14-year-old behind the check in desk, “The captain got stuck in traffic on the motorway.” I see. Because the hopeless bugger did not set off on his journey on time, I now have to spend god knows how long in an overheated, under staffed departure gate………oh joy.
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