Bev(v)y of beauties

Had I adopted the group pose and been slightly less exhausted looking, this would have been a lovely photo (I'm the one on the left in case you're in any doubt...) I'm hoping the blipper (right) and lurker (middle) won't mind my posting this without asking permission - but as they look fab and I look a bit rubbish, they've no right to...

Fairly relaxed packing and leaving the house today, and we didn't drive past any airports on the way to Mr B's chosen airport of the day - but only because we went on back roads, don't think for a second that I have won my battle to have us go from our closest airport....

Indeed, we nearly didn't get there at all, and I doubt we will be flying from Beziers again in a hurry. The traffic was terrible on the (scheduled 2 and a half hour) drive there, which is not really the airport's fault but was still quite stressful. Stress we alleviated by teaching the kids how to play the name game. Those on the New Year's girls' team will be delighted to hear of mine and Katherine's mind meld (continued future glory is assured), though most fun was had from me and Mr B confusing the kids with 70s references they didn't have a hope of getting.

Then there was the pain of the journey from the autoroute to the aiport, which was around a fiendish series of roundabouts and traffic lights that could not fail but to end up in gridlock on a sunny Saturday morning when everyone was heading to the beach which is conveniently located... along the aiport road. Parking chaos (no spaces) almost ended in a sudden end to our break... but soon we were in the airport. Hurrah. Ish.

You would think that after all this time there could be few people left in Europe who were not aware of the 'liquids on aeroplanes' rules. Even my dad, who had not flown since the last century was up to date with that. Well, I can vouch for the fact that there are six people to whom that was big news on Saturday morning, and they were all ahead of me in the security queue. And yes, the nice security lady let them sort out their toiletries bags in front of us, while everyone waited. And yes, they were allowed through with 360ml bottles of contact lens solution and 250ml bottles of shampoo. Grrr for all the time I spend before flights decanting creams and potions into tiny bottles.

Still, the flight left nearly on time, and was mercifully unbumpy - though you wouldn't think so from the hordes of folk screaming during the (perfectly standard) take off. Luton found us in the usual enormous passport queue, and then the annoying bus-to-airport-train-station situation. And then late or never running trains. And then a vomiting Conor on the platform.... But, but, but, eventually we were at our friends' house, hot from buses, trains, tubes and buses soon to be cooled down by chilly drinks and chat on the terrace, and advice about chickens, and an intriguing talk about baby names, and then piles and piles of delicious food and a taxi home.

(That should have been the end of the evening, with the benefit of hindsight, but in fact there was a further bottle of wine on the terrace with the blipper on the right above, and some ill-advised (but welcome in the morning) pancake making (with scales and everything!) from ditto... and finally - too late - bed.)