I’m off again. Portugal, for a long weekend. Never been there. And, as usual a few days before any trip I ever take, I am convinced I will never get there, and should just cancel now and hide under the bed.
It isn’t fear of flying. It isn’t fear of the holiday itself, even though this particular one is a bit weighted on the expectations front, because I have absolutely no idea what will come of it or even – wait for this, from your mature singles guru – what I hope will come of it. It isn’t that I am set in my ways and a little twitchy when taken out of my rut, because frankly my life has been a roller-coaster for three years now and I can’t remember what a rut looks like. They sound peaceful, though.
Just general meltdown. Here we go again.
I may be getting too old for this. Never too old! But yup, I could be getting too neurotic.
I’m bracing myself for two, count them, two, impossible connections between flights, and I thought it would soothe me to chat about it a bit. The first, I have just over an hour to make the connecting flights but they are in the same terminal at Gatwick. It’s a big terminal, I shall probably land at gate 1 and have to get to gate 3 zillion and 20, but surely do-able at a sprightly canter, spots flashing in front of my eyes, cabin luggage bouncing on my hip, as I set a personal best for the half-mile-through-holiday-crowds-sprint.
The second, an hour and a half between flights – piece of cake – until the incoming flight decided to go to the other terminal instead. I tried to book a peace-of-mind second, later, flight to Edinburgh. Turns out, the only affordable flight of the day is the one I’m on, the next one is a breezy three hundred quid more. There are cheaper, later flights, all at least double the price.
Oh, there’s no point to this blog. Did you think there would be? Just trying to talk myself down. Hasn’t really helped.
On the bright side, I haven’t any panic to spare re the actual holiday bit. I’ll worry about that if I make that first connection. Okay, it’ll be too late by then to worry. So that’s a bit of a silver lining.