Popping Over

So I was in B****** for a flying trip. Too quick really. From landing to taking off again was 20 hours. It didn't start well. Deciding to try and spend a good part of Sunday at home I booked a later flight than normal. It seemed a good idea 3 weeks ago but less good when it actually came to it. The drive to Heathrow was marred by an accident on the M25. So a drive that should have taken 1 hour and 10 minutes took about two and a half hours. As I usually try to give myself plenty of time to spare I was able to retire to the lounge to relax (I bought a lounge pass last year, money well spent). I then realised that I had forgotten to bring my masonic words that I should be learning. And I hadn't brought a book because I wanted to make sure nothing would distract me from learning my lines!

Once we landed at Dusseldorf I made my way to the exit. As everyone else headed towards the baggage reclaim I spotted a little door that had a sign above it "Exit - handluggage only". Goody I thought, a quick exit bypassing all the normal corridors and hallways. I spent the next fifteen minutes searching for my taxi driver before realising that the arrivals normally came out on the floor below. My quick exit was turning out to be not so quick after all. Down the stairs, searching the downstairs floor. First sweep and nothing. Now getting worried. Got out my travel documentation, no phone number to call. Words like "botheration" now going through my mind. Another sweep of the floor and there he was. Almost hiding, stupid place to stand if you are waiting to pick people up, but definitely with the sign that I had been looking for. I speed over and introduce myself. It is now 2130 hours and I am flagging. The driver proceeds to tell me that we have to wait for the Madrid flight to come in, due at 2200 hours, as he has two more people to pick up. I look at the board. Oh yes, due at 2200 hrs normally but delayed to 2217hrs tonight. 17 minutes may not sound much but, as I said, I was flagging. I walk up and down the concourse to find some food. The only place is a McFranchise and I refuse to buy from there so I go hungry. Finally at 2230 the other two arrive and we have the hour long drive to the hotel.

There is a choice of two hotels in B******, at one you are kept awake all night by the bells in the clock tower next door, the other you are kept awake by the railway line next door. Now the hotel I generally stay I choose because it reminds me of Fawlty Towers. But they also do good food. So being greeted by wafts of good cooking as we walk through the door but knowing the kitchen was closed and the only thing waiting for me was a packet of peanuts in the room did not help.