We’re finally back home. What a journey.
Have to say that I don’t much care for Cancun airport. It always seems to be stuffed with far more people than it can hold. Low ceilings in the main airport building topped with poor ventilation leave the poor traveller feeling claustrophobic and overheated. It never seems to change. The Offspring complained bitterly that she kept ‘being cut up’ by other people pulling big bags. As I said, “This Latin America. Queueing and the like never made it here, so ‘Vamos!'”.
The Offspring spotted Domino’s Pizza on our exit from security. So, over we trundled. Interestingly, the food court contained many Mexican fast food outlet workers enjoying lunch. Almost without exception, they were eating a brown, spicy looking soup, with a stack of fresh tortillas on the side. All the Europeans were eating pizza and hamburgers. Rather sad in a way.
Having declared the Domino’s offering to be ‘sub-standard’, our tiny family unit started the slow walk down to our departure gate.
Mother and daughter, do love a good a good mooch around the souvenir shops. So we made our final purchases (two over priced key rings and two fans), then headed off to find grumpy husband, who finds our retail activities boring (Fair enough. I just find it … expensive, as the child loves junk and I am far too indulgent).
With the plane parked up at the gate, BA began the byzantine process of loading passengers. This requires close attention. I often wonder if I have enough bare faced cheek to try and get us in the group of ‘families with small children’, but as the Offspring is nearly 9, fairly robust, with a good vocabulary, I’m guessing this is a non-starter.
Finally, we’re off. Half an hour late.
Around an hour or so into the flight, the cabin staff started to serve dinner. About two thirds of the passengers had been served when disaster struck.
With no warning, the plane bumped, then dropped like a lift.
All the food trays got left behind as the plane fell. When the two caught up with each other, it was horrific. In my row (as in others), every single food item (gravy, steak, mashed potato, salads, sticky dessert, salmon, drinks, cutlery, trays) smashed on to the floor.
Except where it hit the ceiling.
We sat with a mixture of wine and gravy dripping on to us from the roof. All the passengers were screaming.
I thought, “This is it. I’m going to be in a plane crash”.
After reassuring us that the plane was undamaged, the flight deck kept us in our seats for a while after this. So, we sat, very uncomfortably, in all the mess. All the cabin crew were saying they’d never experienced anything like it before.
I have to say the arsey (sorry BA, your cabin staff are usually great, but the stewardess who served me had a face like granite and could hardly be bothered to speak to anyone) flight attendant who served our section, didn’t consider clearing up a priority.
The rest of the journey was fairly bumpy and we were glad to get off the plane when it landed, slightly late, at Gatwick.
Our ginger boys were here, at home, to meet us and they have meowed and purred almost continuously since we arrived. I think they’ve missed us.
The garden looks like scorched earth and the house smells of cat, but we’re glad to be back.
[Editor’s note. I’m currently reading Eats Shoots and Leaves. Whilst being very entertaining, it’s made me think that I know nothing about punctuation. Therefore, I’ve decided to just randomly sprinkle commas around and hope for the best.]