So…………. it has been a long 30 years since the start of Covid and our annual holidays abroad. So, we decided to bite the bullet and book a holiday to Spain. After a cancelled family holiday, a wedding abroad that didn’t happen and a wee sneaky girlie weekend, we had a fair bit of credit with “shittyJet”. So we booked a holiday to Spain, we had so much credit we even splashed out and booked suitcases (we normally bring backpacks crammed with chargers). So, we researched the encyclopedia of what we needed to do, we interviewed those who had been, we filled a suitcase full of masks and even checked the expiry dates on our passports (a first for us). And off we headed to Sunnier clims.
Upon arrival at Belfast International Airport ( a full two hours before our flight) we joined the big orange “shittyJet” queue, and just as we were starting to get places, they called the flight to Portugal, so back of the queue we went. Two hours and 10 mins after joining the queue we checked in our luggage and made a run for the boarding gate (no time for a leisurely stroll and sneaky vodka), I dared to suggest a quick pee stop and was given daggers by the lovely orange oompa loompas who were going to rule our existence for the next few hours.
The flight was pretty uneventful, bar the oompa loompas checking the exact face-level of our masks every 10 minutes and the huge queue for the toilet (clearly all passengers had been given the “pee-if-you-dare” daggers on the way). We arrived in Spain, showed our passports and passenger locator forms and breathed a sigh of relief as it was all relatively straight forward with no hassle.
The holiday was wonderful and, bar an episode with a Unicorn Pedalo, which involved a slight drift out to sea and a rescue from a 12 year old on a jet ski, there was not much to report. Spain was wonderful, the food was fantastic and although a lot of places had closed down, there was still enough open to make it feel like a normal holiday.
We took a full 24 hours out of our precious holiday, to ensure that the tests (which cost a small fortune) were completed with military precision, with constant referral to the government guidelines, which appeared to have been translated from Japanese by a 16 year old stone head. The timing of the tests were similar to the timing of eating an avocado… we had a 12 min opportunity of “ripeness” when the test would be valid, so we duly lined up for our attack with Q tips at precisely the right time (with constant referral to the Japanese instruction manual Boris had put in place). We may have had the odd argument, (the wifi ran out, and we momentarily lost vision of the manual and panic ensued). We wrestled with the children, who funnily enough were not that keen to have a Q tip shoved into their nasal cavity to tickle their brain. But, a mere 24 hours after starting the process we were Covid-free and ready for take off.
We arrived at the airport two hours before take off and joined the “orange queue from hell”, which lead two miles out of the airport and included all flights leaving Spain that day, on the big friendly orange jet that loves to rip you off. An hour into the queue and we realised we were still at the back of the queue as every other flight was called forward except the Belfast flight. As we approached the end we noticed that we didn’t have much time to make it to the gate. Finally we made it, handed over our passports and were asked for our “passenger Locator forms”!!!!!!! My husband in his infinite wisdom had decided NOT to fill them in, as (according to the Japanese manual) “we didn’t need them until we got to Belfast”, and since everything changes on an hourly basis we decided to leave the forms until we got to Belfast….. Big, big BIG mistake…….
So we all pulled out our phones and began the arduous task of completing the “Passenger Locator form”……… WE FAILED……(although I am pretty confident that if the passenger Locator forms could be completed on TicTok we could have made it). Those lovely employees dressed in Orange took great pleasure in telling us that the flight had closed!!!!! At no point (while forcing us to queue with military precision and with masks surgically stuck to our faces, did anyone think to mention to us to have our passenger Locator forms completed and ready for viewing)…… Oh no, because then the £60 flight might have appeared a bargain……. I actually think they are on commission, and I am sure they had a wee celebration behind the conveyor belt as about 20 of us, completed the walk of shame back to our seats.
And so began a series of fuck ups, that will result in my next holiday being an Ulsterbus tour…………….. Remember the tests, that poked our one and only brain cell? yeah well they had the expiry potential of the aforementioned avocado, which meant we HAD to get a flight out of Spain that day, or book more tests!!! fan-fucking tastic………….
So we raced to the Ryanair desk to book a flight to Dublin, we waited in line for 30 mins only to be told that we could not book a flight from the Ryanair desk……………. When you go to a shoe shop, you expect to be able to buy a pair of shoes? but god forbid you think you might get a fucking plane ticket from an airline company, at an airport!!!!! and they looked at ME like I was stupid!!!!!! They “suggested” we book online (which we had been trying to do while we waited in line with all the other disgruntled customers)
Having wasted a very valuable hour, we found an Aerlingus flight out of Spain and into Dublin, so my husband (soon to be Ex, he was googling flights, I was googling Spanish Divorce lawyers) booked the flights (online of course, because we all know you can’t buy an airline ticket at an airport!!!!). The stress was beginning to show and as we kissed goodbye to our savings, my husband let a huge groan and fell to the floor saying “I think I am actually taking a heart attack!!!”, a swift kick to the balls later and he was up and ready to face our next problem (very unsympathetic I know, but there was no way I was filling in paperwork for a heart attack). Our next problem???? we needed a negative covid test for our 14 year old son!!!!! I had already claimed going on ahead with our daughter and leaving my husband and son in Alicante airport (I know, I have no shame).
We headed to the toilet to puke, punch walls and try to gather our thoughts when we passed a load of teenagers in white forensic suits. Upon closer inspection we discovered that they were doing covid testing and if we were prepared to part with two months mortgage we could get a covid test in a mere 6 hours…. sure it was a bargain, so we unglued the phone from the teenager and threw him to a pile of strangers who appeared to take great delight in shoving the 1metre Q tip into crevices it didn’t belong. But such was our desperation….
So we hung round the airport for 16 hours, and during that time I learnt many lessons:
- There aren’t many restaurants in Alicante airport (two to be exact)
- There is a very good possibility that the next world war will be caused by a phone charger. I am pretty confident that my children would unplug my life support machine to charge their phone and after witnessing a full on brawl between two elderly ladies over whose turn it was on the phone charger, I have many, many fears for the world we live in.
- Preparing for the Northern Irish weather is only a good idea IF you manage to get your flight home. 16 hours dressed in black, sweating like a menopausal lunatic is not good for any member of my family (or the world at large)
- Three laps of Alicante airport equates to 2437 steps exactly
So, a mere 18 hours later than scheduled we boarded our flight ……..to Dublin, yes the car was in Belfast, yes the test was Negative, yes we did have to pay a small fortune for the suitcases (we also had to keep them with us all day) and yes we did return home safe, sound and skint…………. I am currently investigating next years holiday and I think a wee trip up the Antrim coast sounds wonderful……….