I congratulated myself on being super organised today.
I booked my seats this morning (I am flying Glasgow > Heathrow > Cape Town) and booked seats on both flights.
I checked in on-line. I was pretty sorted.
The only time I got nervous was when my brother opted for activities that had me away from the house and it was an under an hour until my taxi arrived. We got to his home, and there was about 40 minutes for the taxi to get there.
40 minutes to me is cutting it fine. 40 minutes to my brother was “all the time in the world/loads of time.”
I ran around like a headless chicken and threw my bags down the stairs … literally I threw them down the stairs. It was faster than dragging them down.
My brother has always been the <time relaxed> one, me, not so much.
I got to Glasgow airport with time to spare. I found the terminal.
I checked my rather large bag in and did not get charged for excess, though granted I was only a little over. But I felt relieved that I was not paying a small fortune in excess charges.
All going pretty well. Job well done I thought.
Just got to get my oversized Hamley’s bag onto the plane and then I am sorted.
The flight from Glasgow to Heathrow was delayed. Then it was delayed a bit more.
Now it is late by more than two hours. I have no SIM card and no way to let Kennith know.
I am presently at a computer terminal and dropping £1.00 coins into a slot <no really I am> for internet time.
In short I will miss my Heathrow connecting flight. I have no idea what is going to happen when I arrive at Heathrow.
On the upside, I am flying with BA on both flights, so really it is their problem to sort out — thank goodness. If I was on EasyJet or something now, I would be well and truly stuffed.
So I do think there is a life lesson to learn about connecting flights — make sure they are the same airline!!
I am still sitting at Glasgow airport. I have no idea when I will get home.
I am trying not to panic as this is totally against my <tick all the blocks> anal personality.
Right now I am waiting for a late flight for me to get on.
I will then get to Heathrow and have to <see> if I can get on a later flight from Heathrow to Cape Town.
I am not 100% sure where my baggage is – it was booked to go the whole way through.
So while you read this sipping on your tea or your coffee, I will be somewhere in transit hell. No doubt sweaty, smelly, crabby and just slightly travel soiled.