Joys of Travel

Well, as I told you, I was away last weekend. I had the pleasure of going to visit some friends in the Channel Islands, and while I was there I was able to catch up with some of my contacts.

But I have to say that I have only just managed to calm down and return to normal, after my journey between the islands!

Let me tell you about the experience from Hell…

A friend of mine who knows the Channel Islands quite well (wink, wink! Ha, bloody Ha!) advised me that the best thing to do would be to jump on to the “local bus” between the islands… just a quick 15 minute ride, no stress, no panic… easy! So I agreed… and I did.

NOTHING has ever put me into such a near Death state as that. Terry Pratchett could not have written the scenario better! I am sure that the pilot had a scythe with him in his hand baggage!!

As a result I will now doubt the joys of travel for the rest of my life! Why would ANYONE want to sit (voluntarily) in a thin metal tube painted yellow, narrower than a nice comfortable car, and allow someone to fire it into the air ? Where is the joy in that?

Airplanes simply do not have individual seats each with a door next to them, opening into… nothing. Not in my book! A girl could be seriously compromised by falling out, for Gawd’s sake – if I had known I would have worn my tart’s underwear so that at least I would have had a chance to do some advertising on the way down!

No, but seriously, could they not see in my expression that I hate heights, suffer from claustrophobia, and don’t like flying at the best of times?? Sympathy??? Not a chance! Everyone seemed to think I would enjoy the views during the “flight”. In fact I sat with my head buried between my knees and I am so grateful to the couple behind me who each placed a hand on my shoulder to encourage me as I sought to find my salvation…

Why, oh why, would anyone want to travel in such a contraption?

I now have serious RESPECT for Louis Bleriot and the other pioneers who made flights in machines of papier mache, string and glue. Ad as for those early Hollywood films where the ladies end up dancing on the wings of bi-planes while they fly over Los Angeles – pass the bucket!

It is my confirmed intention to write to the airline in question and demand that they refund me the price of the ticket… no amount of fuel, wages and airport taxes can ever make  up for the trauma from which I am now having to recover!

And for the lovely gentleman who met me shortly after this mind-altering experience, I say a heartfelt “thank you” for being sympathetic, and not laughing at me (as all my friends have done)

Travel – humbug!

To be continued…