Those who know me have made my obsession with planning, a family joke. The minute Lady and I decide on a break, even a long weekend, I open a new file on the computer and begin to build-up a calendar and details of flights, hotels, things to be checked and packed, spare batteries for cameras, diaries, travel insurance, booklets on local places to be seen, neighbours to check out the house, list of items in each case in case one gets lost…etc, etc, etc… A copy (sarcastically called the Schedule) is then made available to Son and/or Daughter.
And so (with everything planned and organised as per the Schedule) it was that four of us recently booked-into Glasgow Airport at the un-Godly hour of 6am. Luggage accepted by the airline within weight limits, and the appropriate boarding passes received, we headed to the comfort food area for a full Scottish breakfast and some banter, in happy anticipation of the forth-coming trip to the sunnier climes of the Canaries.
Adequately sated, all bags and coats were gathered together as we headed towards Security Clearance. This required that we all carry our own hand luggage, passport, and boarding pass, and since I had the assembled paperwork, it was up to me to hand over the passports and passes to each individual. It was only then we discovered, as we stood at the entrance to Security that there were only three passports to identify four individuals! …and guess whose passport was missing!!!!!
….OK folks, everyone check your pockets, handbags, wallets and rucksacks….but no sign! Everyone remained calm and no naughty words were exchanged. I now had to admit that my Schedule had not anything to say on such an eventuality…we were into uncharted waters. Logic was now called-for. If necessary, three could go on holiday and I could investigate the situation and follow as quickly as possible….not much fun for me!
I decided that I would go back over the areas where we had been and ask and hunt about. The restaurant was investigated but looking under the seats only resulted in the recovery of 4op in loose change. Also nothing had been handed in to the staff. Next, there must be an Enquiry Desk where things might have been handed in, but there was no-one about…great!
So back along the long walk to the Check-in Desk in Terminal 2. Long queues had formed, but I simply appealed to their better nature, and went to the front to ask the same lady who had dealt with us….but again drew a blank….Oh dear, the original optimism of an early resolution was fading rapidly!
Walking disconsolately back past a neigbouring check-in desk, my name was called out by the assistant behind the desk. As I moved over to him, he held up a little maroon booklet which looked remarkably like a passport! It was, and it even had details and photograph which identified me as the owner. We were happily re-united and a speedy call to the rest of the party brought blood-pressure levels back to normal.
The rest of the holiday was absolutely perfect, but the next time I’m watching one of those Airline programmes which expose the problems encountered at airports, I’ll be able to empathise with them!
Now what about this next holiday we’re planning?