Homeward Bound

“Hold fast to dreams, for if dreams die, life is a broken-winged bird that cannot fly.” 
Langston Hughes

R drove us to Chur, to get our 10.30am pre-flight Covid test; all good so we had a wander around the town, confident we had plenty of time to get to Zurich for our afternoon flight. It would be a fairly long day so I decided an early lunch would be a good idea, taking advantage of the street food on offer. 
We left a little later than K2 wanted and were making good time when the ominous sight of red tail lights appeared ahead. We ground to a halt and crawled along for what seemed an eternity, there was an accident ahead and we weren’t going to make our flight at this rate. R decided on leaving the motorway and with K2 navigating, took us through the back streets of Zurich, dropping us at the airport entrance ten minutes before check-in was due to close, very impressive! Hurried goodbyes and we were in, but so were half of Zurich it seemed – enormous queues for the check-in so we resorted to plan B; K1 collared a Swiss Air staff member to explain our predicament and, with me bringing up the rear with our suitcases, we were soon directed to check in (first class, no queue). We were spirited through security and arrived at the boarding gate with about 5 minutes to spare, and we weren’t the only ones late. Further delays while I was sent to the naughty step to get all my paperwork sorted out (it was a mixture of paper and emails on my phone, for both of us). Seated in time for a late take-off (half an hour delay) we were soon back at Heathrow; did we really go to Switzerland?