Flying Home

Wednesday 11 April

The alarm rang loud and insistently this morning, although we soon realized we had plenty of time and did not need to rush up. We have not breakfasted at all in Barcelona as paying 16.50 euros (13 GBP approx) for a croissant and a cup of tea seemed exorbitant in the hotel, and then we discovered that the small breakfast café we liked the look of down the road, was full of smoking Barcelonians – not a healthy place to start the day. We decided therefore to finish packing and go to the airport in time to have a bite before boarding our flight – as Easyjet do not feed their passengers.

We left the hotel in good time around 11.15, our two suitcases just fitting into the boot of the taxi so that the three large hand luggage bags and the chocolate bunny from the boat had to accompany us inside. The journey to the airport took about half an hour – the driver sped along the dual carriageway, ignoring signs to change lanes for the airport and I wondered if he was absconding with us or taking us to the wrong destination. I needn’t have worried, as very strangely, the lane directions changed back and forth across the motorway, and soon we were turning into the airport and parking outside the departure lounge. Staggering inside we found we were right beside the Easyjet check-in desks. A young man was free almost immediately and we handed over our passports. Colin put his suitcase on the conveyor – 25 kgs – the said young man looked amazed that we had another huge piece of luggage to book in as well. We put my pink “portmanteau” on the scales and together the weight was within a whisker of 55 kgs! The young man asked quite innocently if we knew we were a “little” over the luggage allowance and proceeded to print us tickets to pay the charges. We explained we had been traveling for nine months and asked him if the plane served champagne so we could celebrate our last flight (knowing of course that they didn’t) and telling him what a wonderful time we had had, so that he tore up the original tickets and booked us through with two bags totaling 40 kgs! What a sweetie!

The next problem would be our hand luggage – we had heard Easyjet were quite strict about the size and weight - together ours probably weighed another 30 kgs! – as well as checking for disallowed substances and liquids. But first we needed sustenance to keep us going. Munching on sandwiches and crisps (our first packet of crisps for months – we suddenly realized that as well as lots of “lasts”, there were going to be as many “firsts since …”) we could see the gateway that would take us to the plane. The area became crowded with fellow travelers to Newcastle.

Juz had booked something called “speedy boarding” with our tickets, so when the flight was called we made our way to the front of the queue with several other couples, only to be told our tickets weren’t marked appropriately. We insisted that we had paid for this service and the lady let us through, with a large crowd pushing from behind – Easyjet do not have any designated seating, so it is ‘first come first served’ to find a seat. We chose seats near the front – a huge mistake – as we were soon surrounded by children aged from just a few months old up to about five! - all making lots of noise and kicking the seats in front and jumping up and down, while Mothers just closed their eyes for a bit of respite. But at least we had two seats together. The flight left a little late as they had not put enough fuel in on the first attempt, but made up the time with tail winds across France and the English Channel pushing us along. It was strange to see the Isle of Wight and the Solent panned out beneath us – if we had been sitting on the other side of the plane we might even have been able to see Selsey! (where Colin’s Mum, Dad and sister live). We flew on up the backbone of England across the Yorkshire Dales and over the city of Durham to land in just a couple of hours at Newcastle. We collected our luggage and made our way through some very inefficient revolving doors – they only let a couple of people with trolleys in at a time and then kept stopping once both openings were closed – very claustrophobic. And then suddenly there was Juz and Dave waiting to meet us. Not once had our luggage been checked for liquids and other unsuitable substances, and our passports were barely glanced at, so we could have brought our champagne home – but we did enjoy it in Barcelona, and maybe the weight would have been just too over the top. The sun had been shining all the way from France to Newcastle and the temperature on stepping off the plane was warmer than in Barcelona, so that the UK didn’t feel too alien.

There was lots of hugging and kissing before we made our way down the A1 to “Darlo”, catching up on lots of news on tue way. The house, when we left last summer was in the throes of having walls knocked down to make a larger en-suite bathroom for the master bedroom, now as we entered, everything downstairs, apart from the kitchen, had been stripped away, and concrete floors laid throughout – apparently there had been only earth foundations till a few days ago. Holly dog was there to greet us, wagging her tail and barking “hello”. We congregated in the kitchen and continued to hear their news and impart some of our stories, during which we learnt that Dawn and Darren (Colin’s sister and nephew) were also arriving, but much later tonight.

It did seem, very quickly, almost like we had never been away, and Russia and China were just a dream – I will be reading the early entries of the blog again very soon, just to ensure it was real. The next few days will seem like a “debriefing” time, or a period of reacclimatizing ourselves back to normal life. I am feeling very sad that the journey is almost over, but then I am always sad when going home from any holiday.

Juz cooked chilli con carne for tea, with mountains of chillis and garlic, which strangely hadn’t been very much in evidence in South America. It tasted delicious. (Colin won the bet – he had thought we would have chilli for tea, while I opted for a pasta dish or take away). We didn’t wait up for Dawn and Darren to arrive - although we did leave them some food -apparently it was only a short while after the rest of us retired. We must have put our heads on the pillows and zonked out.