The computer kind. German ones have some of the keys swapped around and a difficult to find @ sign. It was a very interesting and curious business using a different keyboard. Constantly having to go back and correct.
I hadn't quite appreciated that keyboards come in different flavours according the language.
Even more interesting was the internet computer area at the airport on my return. Some joker had prised off a few keys and transposed them. So when I logged into one of my email accounts it required both the transposed letters and not being sure if I typed the right letter as we know passwords are usually hidden by asterixes. Or is it asterixii?
Original Comments:
Wednesday, 2 August 2006
h2g2: Lightning
That evening as the time of my flight approached and I had completed check-in I found an internet point and was happily emailing Mr Doris about the impressive thunder and lightning outside. After I had logged off I noticed that the planes were still were they were on the runway.
A while later with my food and drink in hand I made my way to the gate for my flight. I notice again the planes were still where they were and then as I approached the terminal that it was full of people sitting around. The information was starting to filter through my skull that something wasn't right and sure enough, all flights in and out had been grounded due to the weather.
The air in the terminal was thick with sweat and humidity and I found myself a little out of the way corner with soft wheelchairs to sit in, and fresh cool air to breathe that I nick-named it the first class waiting area. I pulled my wheelchair up to the window for a front-row seat of the storm and the rain cascading in buckets down the windows.
After about an hour of the storm, and my departure time passed, announcements starting coming through every few minutes with regret that such and such a flight had been cancelled and that people should make their way back to the main airport. I thought most people took it well considering it was a massive hassle. Only the German, an Austrian and Italian flights remained. Indeed the Austrian and an Italian flight was boarding and set off. Apparently they didn't get far and were returned to the airport.
Eventually, regretful notice of the cancellation of my flight was announced along with every other flight that evening. I too was sent to the scrum that was the main airport full of heaving bodies trying to re-book flights. After my mega journey to get to the airport this was not what I needed. Phone calls are flying between the UK and my first set of friends in Germany to warn of possible delays and now cancellation. Meanwhile they had been told by the airport their end that the flight had set off and drove the hour to the airport to pick me up! It is bad enough me being put out but I am so sorry they had a wasted journey on top of it all.
Mr Doris has family about an hour from the airport so I phoned them to ask for advice. Part of me was prepared to sleep in the airport for the night for the first flight and part of me desires a certain amount of softness and that airport has precious few seats let alone anywhere comfortable. His sister kindly fetched me whilst Mr Doris scoured the internet and found me an alternative flight on another airline at another airport the next day. He just paid up and we are hoping the insurance will cover the extra costs.
It was a lovely night catching up with family and quaffing a glass of wine. An unexpected and pleasurable detour. The next day my brother-in-law drove me all the way to London City airport for my flight in the afternoon. There I treated myself to a slap-up lunch in a restaurant overlooking the runway watching the flights effortlessly take off.
At long last, seated on the plane, the pilot warned us there were storms near our destination airport but for the moment it was clear so we would go. The engines roared to life, the plane shuddered and was approaching the point of take-off at which point, like the broken down truck on the motorway it choked to a stop. I began to grin again like a demented person with a life completely out of my control, and then audibly chuckle as the pilot began to announce we were told by air traffic control to stop and return to the terminal. My life flashes before me and I consider any bad karma I am due but then we are assured it was a simple reason and we do a circuit of the runway and take off.
The turbulance was particularly bad the entire trip and I did wonder if the plane would crash and if I would ever arrive but I did to be greeted by my friends with a welcome poster. I don't think I've ever had one of those before with a welcome message and my name on it and it brought tears to my eyes. I had finally arrived more than a day late after my long journey into the arms of a friend.
Original Comments:
A while later with my food and drink in hand I made my way to the gate for my flight. I notice again the planes were still where they were and then as I approached the terminal that it was full of people sitting around. The information was starting to filter through my skull that something wasn't right and sure enough, all flights in and out had been grounded due to the weather.
The air in the terminal was thick with sweat and humidity and I found myself a little out of the way corner with soft wheelchairs to sit in, and fresh cool air to breathe that I nick-named it the first class waiting area. I pulled my wheelchair up to the window for a front-row seat of the storm and the rain cascading in buckets down the windows.
After about an hour of the storm, and my departure time passed, announcements starting coming through every few minutes with regret that such and such a flight had been cancelled and that people should make their way back to the main airport. I thought most people took it well considering it was a massive hassle. Only the German, an Austrian and Italian flights remained. Indeed the Austrian and an Italian flight was boarding and set off. Apparently they didn't get far and were returned to the airport.
Eventually, regretful notice of the cancellation of my flight was announced along with every other flight that evening. I too was sent to the scrum that was the main airport full of heaving bodies trying to re-book flights. After my mega journey to get to the airport this was not what I needed. Phone calls are flying between the UK and my first set of friends in Germany to warn of possible delays and now cancellation. Meanwhile they had been told by the airport their end that the flight had set off and drove the hour to the airport to pick me up! It is bad enough me being put out but I am so sorry they had a wasted journey on top of it all.
Mr Doris has family about an hour from the airport so I phoned them to ask for advice. Part of me was prepared to sleep in the airport for the night for the first flight and part of me desires a certain amount of softness and that airport has precious few seats let alone anywhere comfortable. His sister kindly fetched me whilst Mr Doris scoured the internet and found me an alternative flight on another airline at another airport the next day. He just paid up and we are hoping the insurance will cover the extra costs.
It was a lovely night catching up with family and quaffing a glass of wine. An unexpected and pleasurable detour. The next day my brother-in-law drove me all the way to London City airport for my flight in the afternoon. There I treated myself to a slap-up lunch in a restaurant overlooking the runway watching the flights effortlessly take off.
At long last, seated on the plane, the pilot warned us there were storms near our destination airport but for the moment it was clear so we would go. The engines roared to life, the plane shuddered and was approaching the point of take-off at which point, like the broken down truck on the motorway it choked to a stop. I began to grin again like a demented person with a life completely out of my control, and then audibly chuckle as the pilot began to announce we were told by air traffic control to stop and return to the terminal. My life flashes before me and I consider any bad karma I am due but then we are assured it was a simple reason and we do a circuit of the runway and take off.
The turbulance was particularly bad the entire trip and I did wonder if the plane would crash and if I would ever arrive but I did to be greeted by my friends with a welcome poster. I don't think I've ever had one of those before with a welcome message and my name on it and it brought tears to my eyes. I had finally arrived more than a day late after my long journey into the arms of a friend.
Original Comments:
- Jo said...
-
What a nightmare. You just have to laugh, I guess (following on from my reply to your last post) - this goes beyond stress.
The turbulence thing. I flew to Bangkok and back a few months back and it was whisper smooth for 11 hours. Three months before that I took a 50 minute London-Newcastle BA flight and the turbulence as we approached landing was the scariest thing I have ever experienced. It took 3 attempts to land, screaming engines, people crying in the cabin etc (no kidding). I really thought...this could be it. - Chandira said...
-
Oh, nightmare Doris!! I'm so glad you made it back safely and had a nice welcomehome again. I hate flying in turbulence.
- Astryngia said...
-
WOT an Adventure (capital 'A'!!!
h2g2: Hitchhiking
It has been many years, since before I had kids, that I have travelled on holiday on my own. I've been away on work but this is different. The morning of departure on my apparently well organised holiday I joked to Mr Doris I felt like a teen again with a rucksack on my back but with the benefit of a credit card in my pocket and the security of a husband at home. He quipped he bet I was the only back-packer carrying a Prada handbag! Anyway....
Hitchhiking was not part of the travel itinerary but that is exactly what happened. My first train broke down before it started and the replacement train was too late to make the next train connection and would miss the flight. I didn't want to drag Mr Doris on a car journey all the way down the country to Stansted and decided to hitch a lift instead. On the mobile Mr Doris was initially shocked but then saw my sense!!!
Me being me and my independent spirit busting forth, I refused any further help from him such as a lift to the nearest motorway. After all, if I was going to hitch I wasn't going to do this by halves. I bought a marker pen and penned out the motorway name on the back of my travel itinerary and set off walking in that direction. It wasn't a trucking area and I ended up walking much further than I expected with my face becoming as red as the tight red pedal pusher trousers I was wearing. My first lift took me about 10 miles to the motorway where I waited barely 8 minutes and caught my first truck on the slip-road to the motorway.
The last time I hitched lifts was when I was 17 and travelled up to Scotland. I had bought a great paperback which extolled the virtues of hitchhiking and how best to do it. Truck drivers during daylight hours have to get from A to B and sometimes don't mind having a passenger for company. It is important to recognise the main travel routes and to break your journey up into chunks as it is unlikely to get a truck going the entire same route. Back in those days, I recklessly enjoyed the sights of Edinburgh that I stayed an extra night and then had to get back to London with only 78p in my pocket and had to do it that day as I was back to work the next. I did it with pennies to spare. I had not hitchhiked since.
Anyway, this time round, I am clambering up into the truck cabins and had forgotten what the climb was like and I'm trying to gracefully do it with Prada handbag and rucksack in tow! The sun was shining and I was excited to be so daring. The other thing that occurred to me was how ecological it was. After all, I wasn't using additional fuel and was joining in on journeys that were already happening. It was great to be seated up so high with a good view of the roads and sky but I had forgotten that trucks can only do 55 mph on the motorway and so I settled back and accepted that I'd get to the airport when I did. It was better than waiting at the station for a train that I knew was definitely going to be late. This way I had a chance.
It seems that truck drivers and I share something in common. We look younger than our ages! Strange that. I would like to say so much about each of the drivers and the wide ranges of our conversations from the metaphysical to the current political situation or the education of our children but it would be as long as a novel.
Truck drivers are fab in that they are prepared to suggest slight detours to drop me off at good truck stops to pick up my next lift in the correct direction, or take a road that goes by the airport rather than the one they were originally going to take. There is a camaraderie on the road and that great trucking song "Convoy" comes to mind.
My time for checking in at the airport was ticking away but the final nail was when the last truck broke down on the M25 motorway. I have never seen a truck break down on the middle lane of the motorway but here we were. His brakes under the cabin suddenly seized up, we had been in a slight traffic jam but now the traffic was moving again, except we weren't. A motorway is not the place to suddenly decide to get out and find an alternative lift. And definitely not the middle lane when you are in a Dutch truck and getting out means the fast lane. The driver finally got out his side (thankfully the slower lane) and stood tweaking under the cabin. I sat chuckling. There was nothing I could do so no point me getting upset.
After a while he got the truck working and off we went. He dropped me off at the service station near the airport and I skedaddled up to the car park where I knew there was a shuttle bus service into the terminal. No tickets are needed as it is assumed that everyone has paid the high fees for the parking and it is in the middle of nowhere and unlikely to have passing pedestrians!
I was only about an hour late for my flight but obviously it had flown. They were able to book me into the next flight that evening for only a modest sum extra. At that point I cried with relief. I was there and was going to be travelling that day after all. But my adventures were not over and that's another story!
Of the few adults I have told this story to I have asked them not to tell my children or their children about my hitchhiking. I am not sure I could cope with them ever doing it and would worry they would not be as "safe" as I am about it. On the one hand I do not want to encourage it as there are so many dangerous people around. On the other hand I think these are far outweighed by the thousands and thousands of trucks driving our roads and it would be more efficient, and interesting, for them to have a passenger. It makes me think of the sometimes double standards of being a parent ..... do as I say not as I do.
I probably wouldn't go hitchhiking again but there is a sense of achievement in knowing that I could if I needed, and that it is possible to get around the country for next to nothing.
Original Comments:
- Britmum said...
- What can I say except a big hug wow... sounds most interesting and I am looking forward to reading more.
Glad you are back you little dare devil.
Take care xx
- doris said...
- Thanks Britmum ;-) I wonder how your travels went and will catch up soon.
- Jo said...
- You know Doris, you have my respect...one truck after another, time ticking by till your flight, then missing it...
I'd have been having a minor nervous breakdown.
What's your secret hon ? ;-)
- Chandira said...
- Go you!!
You know, people give me crap about being into astrology sometimes. But while you were on vacation, Mercury (planet of travel and communications) was going... retrograde. (backwards, for all intents and purposes.) So thanks, but sorry you were, for being a great example of what can happen! ;-)
It's ok, it's gone direct again now. You're safe.. Glad to have you back blogging again. You're inspiring.
And thanks for keeping me on the blog roll..
- Ally said...
- I don't know that I would ever hitch-hike alone. But I think that there is a massively overestimated sense of danger in the world around us these days - because of all the bad news that sells papers, we live in fear. Actually there aren't more bad people per head of population around than there were twenty, fifty, a hundred years ago. We just hear about things more. I would be happy for my hypothetical teenage kids to hitch-hike - provided they did it safely.
- Ally said...
- I don't know that I would ever hitch-hike alone. But I think that there is a massively overestimated sense of danger in the world around us these days - because of all the bad news that sells papers, we live in fear. Actually there aren't more bad people per head of population around than there were twenty, fifty, a hundred years ago. We just hear about things more. I would be happy for my hypothetical teenage kids to hitch-hike - provided they did it safely.
- Badaunt said...
- Good grief, what a wonderful beginning to your trip!
It makes me laugh, though, you telling people not to tell kids about the hitchhiking. When I was a student I hitchhiked all the time, but I was always careful not to let my parents know!
- Astryngia said...
- Yessss...I hitchhiked through Franch in my early 20s as a student. I'm sure it was my total innocence which saved me from a challenging fate. But I know what it's like to sleep in the cab of a lorry! (It's quite luxurious.)
h2g2: Home
Like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz in her spangled shoes, I have clicked my heels and am now home. Through adventures, hurdles, rainbows and angels for friends there is nothing like being home. Catching up with my kids, finding out what they have been up to and sharing my own adventures. All of us under the same roof, but most of all being in the arms of dear Mr Doris. I am encased in his love and I am home.In between chunks of work I may write snippets of my journeys and observations. Blogging seems to get under the skin and just wants to burst out. Hee-hee I'm back! At least to journal my travels.
Original Comments:
- Ally said...
- Ooooh, jolly good! I am looking forward to some of your adventures ... .
- doris said...
- Thanks Ally and Hi! I'll come visiting soon (your blog!) and hope you are enjoying your new home :-)
- Curly K said...
- Whey, hey, she's back - fantastic. Can't wait to hear all about it!
- doris said...
- Thanks Curly K - so you've come out of hiding too ;-)
- Stegbeetle said...
- Ooh! You're back!
*walks off to pass blindingly obvious comments somewhere else*
Welcome back!
- jane said...
- Welcome back, Doris!
- Astryngia said...
- You're back! I thought you'd stopped. Have missed you!! So pleased to catch up with your adventures. :-)
Monday, 17 July 2006
Another one bites the dust!
Not quite, but I'm off for an extended while.
Going walkabout even though I may not go anywhere!
And when I'm back I'll come and make my presence known.
Anyway, it has been wonderful :-D
Going walkabout even though I may not go anywhere!
And when I'm back I'll come and make my presence known.
Anyway, it has been wonderful :-D
[Note: Comments switched off across the blog]
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Try a Greek keyboard. Plenty of letters that aren't even in our alphabet!
LOL too funny.
Take care xx
Sometimes I am so glad that I found your blog because you are so wonderful. You give such great prespective on things and make it much clearer. What you said about my Mum is so true. We most definately should start a Bad Mothers Group with Jo.
Take care Doris and have a super fab weekend with your lovely family xxx
Blogged you and dared you, btw....
:-)
- Know where we could get naughty nuns outfits?
Cool blog and I like your porn "handle." I think mine would be
Find it Through the Fat ...
I use a french keyboard which I'm used to now. I wonder how big a chinese keyboard is?
P.S. Glad to see you're back. :)
I'm back-although under a new nickname and I've switched back to my old url, just to confuse you! :)
Hope you are well! Both me and the bump are doing well, it's not long to go now!
As for the keyboard thing, I have the same problem as Chandira with the pound sign or rather the lack of a pound sign! Very frustrating sometimes!
When you said you were going walkabout, I thought that you were speaking metaphorically, not that you were actually going to do it.
I always enjoy reading your bl*g so welcome back, I was a little worried that we had lost your wonderful thought provoking blogging but happily I was wrong
x