Planes,Trains and Automobiles

The classic 80's odd couple road movie starring Steve Martin and John Candy on the road trip from hell has to be one of my all time favorite films. As everything that can and does go wrong, John Candy's unwavering optimism is the perfect counterpoint to Steve Martin's descent into madness and rage. I'd always thought in such a situation I'd be more like Candy than Martin, smiling in the face of adversity. Not so. After twenty hours of what should have been a six hour journey, the rage was in full flow.

It all began with a lovely morning at Archie's house. Coffee, a shower, a quick last check of the cases then settle down to wait for Archie's human to pick us up and take us to the airport. All went according to plan. Check-in was swift, as was security. I didn't even have to take my shoes off. Then down to the gate for a beer and boarding. I had that feeling in my stomach. Not the "shitting myself in case we plummet to the earth with nothing but a flotation device for safety" feeling, although I had that too. No, that excited feeling I get every time I go on holiday or go traveling, the feeling that a new experience is about to unfold. We are called for boarding and we all dutifully stand in the queue to wait. Waiting...... still waiting...... It turns out that the incoming flight from Heathrow is delayed. Bummer eh! Still excited though. ( big smiley emoji)

We chose to fly via Heathrow to Las Palmas because it was less expensive with a greater baggage allowance. The extra two hours waiting in an airport bar seemed a small price to pay, right?

Back to Glasgow, an hour late we finally board our Heathrow flight. It's going to be tight but we could still make it. Half an hour on the tarmac and the first twinge of Steve Martin makes an appearance. I mean, they could at least start serving the booze!

Martin Level : Low

Finally we are airborne and on our way. I'm excited again. Nervous energy starts to creep in but it's nothing a whisky won't cure. And then we reach Heathrow.

We disembark hurriedly and march toward the gate. We show our tickets hoping to be whisked away directly to our Las Palmas flight, but it isn't to be. Customer services is waiting for us. We have missed our connection and must join a queue for rebooking. A queue we are told is currently two hours waiting time.

Martin Level : Moderate

Eventually, after lots of to and fro, phone calls, negotiations and shaking of the head, we are rebooked on a flight to Las Palmas via Madrid. It isn't ideal but it is better than waiting a full 24 hours for the next flight out of Heathrow. Relieved at the thought of getting to Gran Canaria only 4 hours later than planned, we make off to the gate for our flight to Madrid.

There is something wrong with the plane. A technical issue on the Madrid / Heathrow flight results in a delay for our Heathrow to Madrid flight. Two hours and a 5 quid compensation voucher later we started out for Madrid and if my calculations were correct we'd still have about an hour before our connection. Happy days. The Madrid flight was great. Proper comfy seats and in flight entertainment. I watched Skyfall and had a few beers. We landed in Madrid.

My calculations were not correct. I hadn't factored in the time difference and so as we were landing in Madrid, a plane full of happy holiday makers were taking off for Las Palmas. On our Flight. Without us! How very dare they!

Martin Level : High

I am now pissed off! An Iberia rep apologies and informs us we are being taken to a hotel where dinner and drinks will be provided and we'll be brought back to the airport in time to catch an 8 am flight to our final destination. All we need do is catch the terminal train to the bus collection point and we'll be bussed out and brought back in the morning. I'm too tired to care now. We head to the hotel.

The Hotel in question isn't a hotel. It is a hostel in an Industrial estate. The restaurant is closed and there is no bar. We are handed a plastic bag with a warm bottle of water, a melted chocolate biscuit and a chorizo sandwich on stale bread. It is now 2 am. 14 hours since departure from Archie's house in Scotland. I'm in an industrial estate in Madrid with a stale chorizo sandwich. Apeshit isn't the word. We demand a different hotel. The answer is no. We demand an open restaurant. The answer is no. We demand an open bar. The answer is no. We demand a taxi back to the airport. The answer is yes!

Martin Level : Extreme

Hi-Ho,Hi-Ho. Back to Madrid airport we go!

We approach the Iberia customer services desk. It is now 3am.

Martin Level : Off the Chart!!!!!

It goes a little something like this.....

There really was nothing else to do. We went to the bar in a deserted airport at 3.30am waiting for our 8am flight. A mixture of beer and exhaustion slowly soothed my foul mood. Second beer down and I could feel the spectre of John Candy's optimism returning. In a few short hours we'd be on Gran Canaria, tired but ready for a new adventure. At around 6.30 am we are treated to a beautiful Madrid sunrise.

Martin Level : Moderate

Candy Level : Rising

Apart from a small but quickly resolved seating issue, the flight to Las Palmas took off and landed on time, albeit 12 hours after our original arrival time. 20 hours travel time for a journey that would have been 4 and a half hours had we gone direct from Glasgow. Oh well. I'm an Islander now and this makes me happy.