blue moon

The moon is up and so are we. It’s about 16.00hrs somewhere over Eastern Europe.  In the window on the other side of the plane, the sun is a big red ball.  It’s really something to see the sun and moon like this.  

We’re up early this morning, raring to go.  Months of planning just need us to get on the plane now.

The taxi is late.  An omen?

The driver loads our bags, we get in but he doesn’t.  He can’t close the driver’s door.  He spends precious time banging it, opening it, shutting it - if the neighbours didn’t know we’re off early, they do now.  He gives up and we drive off with his door open.

After a few miles, he realises he doesn’t have enough petrol to get to Heathrow and we stop to fill up.  My clock is ticking.

While filling up he continues battering his door - eventually it shuts.  When he returns from paying, he can’t open it.  He gives up and climbs into his seat from the passenger door.  Tick tock.  

Although the motorway is busy, he makes up time with a display of lane-switching that would not be out of place in a Grand Prix.  

The airport is busy and it takes an hour to get through security.  But eventually we have time to sit and snack before getting on the plane.

It’s about 3.30am local time when we land.  At the exit there’s a sea of faces holding up meet and greet cards.  And one with our names on.

It’s about 40 miles from the airport to our hotel.  We’re tired and desperate for bed.  The driver sets off at about 20mph and then stops for petrol.  Twice.