On The Road Again
I really thought that this time would be different. It was a nice delusion while it lasted.
I’m talking about making travel arrangements, which for me always seems to end up in a mad-cap race against time to locate passports, or to convince the travel agency to courier the tickets straight to check-in, since I have forgot to pick them up as I should have, or to egg on some poor taxi-driver as we rush between the airport I thought I was departing from and the one from which I am actually doing that.
But this time! This time, I had somehow convinced myself, I would be the sort of traveller who keeps her passport in a posh leather-case and sashays around with a very small amount of matching luggage. I imagined this traveller (me) to smile graciously at the staff at baggage control and then settle down to enjoy a pre-ordered martini in first class.
It’s now Wednesday, and I just realised that I’m going to Brussels on Friday but have not yet bought my Eurostar ticket. I won’t have time to do it tomorrow Thursday, which leaves us – once again – the day of departure.
So if any of you good people are commuting on the Jubilee Line to Waterloo on Friday, and spot a small, belligerent-looking creature dragging around an overnight bag on its one functioning wheel, while swearing at old ladies and women with buggies – well, what are you waiting for?
Just help me up the stairs, will ya?