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Friday, April 08, 2005

And so it was...

...that the wanderers had to return.

The day started early with dawn edging the light clouds with gold, before bursting through and washing the scenery.

The Gorse Fox had chores... the Silver Vixen supervised the retreat from the villa with a military precision. Rental Car: Fill with petrol; Main entrance: get a trolley for the cases; kitchen: help clear out the perishables; reception: check-out; store room: baggage; pool bar: tea, coffee and breakfast. The routine has been perfected over so many trips that it went with a hitch.

We spent a pleasant morning chatting with Xaron (sp?) before making for the the car which would take us to the airport. Arriving early, as usual, we found our way to the check-in and waited for it to open... checked-in and went through to departures.

And then it all started to unwind...

The 14:45 flight time moved to 16:30, and the gate changed so we moved. Soon after, the gate changed again... so we sat still (reasoning there was plenty of time, and no doubt things would change again!)

They did.

The 16:30 filight time became 01:30. We didn't get the joke!

After about an hour the carrier arranged to bus us all to a hotel in Los Christianos where we could get a room and a meal. They plan to pick us up at 23:00 to get us back to the airport and try again.

The hotel is large complex (Paradise Park) on the hill above LC. Evidently different people have different concepts of paradise. Having rubbed shoulders with some of the guests, I suspect Milton was closer to the mark and we were lost.


A family from hell (which judging by their accents, is not far from Manchester) were occupying the centre of the bar. They were a wedding party... and had been travelling since the early morning. They were waiting for their rooms to be allocated. Already they had embarked on the task of trying to drink Tenerife dry, and build a life size model of the Pyramid of Cheops from cigarette ash (participants in this latter adventure included young teenagers and a girls who was evidently pregnant). They were loud, aggressive, rude and gave the hotel staff an apalling time over the fact their rooms weren't ready. GF should point out that it was not yet four o'clock... the official check-in time.

In GF's experience, you achieve far more by being quiet, reasonable, and firm than obnoxious, loud and very stupid... but then without this level of stupidity new Labour couldn't get a majority in a phone box, let alone the Commons, and they've achieved that twice.


Updated Urban-cub with our situation... she does tend to worry. She phoned our taxi company to ensure they knew of the delay.

Cousteau-cub called also. She mumbled through her fixed jaw, explaining that here check-up had gone well, and she should be able to reduce the tension on the jaw after her next check-up. She was very excited as she had bought a liquidizer, and managed to cook mashed potato, sausages and cream of mushroom.... then blend it all to a liquid that she was able to drink. As she put it "My first real food in nearly two weeks".


As GF sits and writes this, the noise from the open spaces and balconies seems to increase by the moment. Voices vie with each other to relate the latest pilgrim's tale. Chaucer it's not. Bawdy it is. It sounds like Eastenders and Coronation Street having a reasoned debate row. It reminds us of why we stick to our normal resort.

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