Just when I was beginning to think it was all so not worth it, we boarded the 747 jet bound for Heraklion Crete. I'd had little sleep and the slight delay caused by bad weather over Europe had me worrying slightly about the inpending flight, I'm not the greatest flyer!
I was squashed in a seat designed for a dentist chair, I'm sure! I was also commanding the window, not that there's much to see flying through the night and definitely not my prefered time to travel -- my outlook is if It's gonna crash, I'd like to see if I need my lifejacket. I mean what's the point of the safety procedures before take off; "Your lifejacket is located under your seat armed with a light and a whistle to attract attention." It always makes me smile -- If you're bobbing about in the ocean, what use is a whistle? I'd rather have my cell phone!
Anyway the flight attendants sat down, the engines shook and we catapulted down the runway, overhead lockers rattling and wheels bumping on the tarmac. The nose lifted and the little lit buildings on the ground became little dots, we were off to Greece! It was almost two hours into the flight. The flight meals had been served and my circumstances of not being able to eat were not an issue. The little packages of food served in cardboard cartons did nothing to whet my appetite. I was beginning to feel very cold. There was a draught just above my right shoulder and one directly on my feet. The window was iced and I was shivering! "Not much longer now," I thought as the flight attendants began to clear away all the goods. Then an announcement from the pilot told us that we'd be landing shortly,
Phew! we'd made it so far. My ears began to pop, stomach quiverred as we began our descent. Bump, bump! we were on the ground. It was breaking daylight and I could see the beautiful green sea on my right. I could smell the warmth and when they opened the cabin doors the warm air rushed in to a " Wooo" from the passengers. It was 4.45 am and 84 degrees a far cry from Manchester's cloudy cold skies and 52 degrees of English summer.
By now we'd made it into the airport building, passports in hand and a face staring back at me from the days when I was very different. "Was that really me and was I really ever that big" I'm talking about my passport photo! I handed it over to security and he took a long look at both me and the photo -- "I'm gonna be on the next flight home at his rate," I thought. He waved me through and I caught up with my hubby and daughter who were waiting rather impatiently beside the luggage collection.
Tiredness was setting in. Tempers began to fray, people arguing, children crying. Get me on that bus! We'd had our own little tiff by then and I was quite frankly ready to strangle my hubby who constantly fiddled with the wallet containing all of our documentation. "Passports, tickets, money, vouchers," he kept saying! I just headed for the bus marked Stallis with suitcase in tow, marvellous invention trolley cases! Hubby scuttering up behind and me and my daughter seated on the bus, we were off to our resort and bed, I hoped.
Manolis greeted us at the hotel and gave us the keys to our room. Bags dropped, we climbed into bed in a warmth far greater than that at home. After resting up, at 2pm we ventured into town. with the warm sun on our skin -- it was all worth the wait!
Ah! memories are all that's left but we spent our week in paradise and we have the brown skin to prove it. Roll on August our next planned return.