Bus Driver

It can't be that difficult to drive a bus without hitting something - not if it's your job. Apparently, in Mayo-land it is that complicated. Having allowed ample time to get to the airport the bus driver promplty twatted a car. As if this wasn't enough, he proceeded to shout in French that it wasn't his fault, he had right of way...blah de blah. 40 minutes later and the intervention of some less than inventive police gestapo and we were mobile again.

Now I've been monitoring flights over the last few days and the majority have been delayed. Not the git that I wanted to catch. Sorry, the gate is closed now. BASTARDS.

My only alternative to staying in Mayo-land was to get an alternative flight. Can't do one from Zav though - have to go to Liege. Fooking hell - I don't even know where Liege is let alone how to get there but, in desperation I took and paid for the flight.

Now the race was on. Get to a place I don't know, have never been to without missing another plane. Life was so much cosier in bed :-(

Having booked a train ticket from Zav to Liege I asked politely which platform I should wait for my latest adventure on. Number 3 in 10 minutes. Hooray, something going right. IDA (Impending doom alert) - bloody thing was late. And just to rub it in I had to change at a place called Leuven. Not that complicated except that they don't speak English, French or Spanish there. Eventually, I figured it out and got the right train to Liege.

In typically Belgian fashion, there is no way to get from the city to the airport except by taxi. Muppets! Or perhaps a conspiracy of taxi drivers?! The one I got was really nice - quoted me 30 euros direct, took me to the bank/cash machine on the way to the airport and still came up with a figure of 27 euros at the end of the journey. Nice one dude. Having 'mentally budgetted' for 30, he gets the 30 and a beer or two.

My only consolation to this disaster is that not once has anyone assumed I'm british and thus spoken to me in English. Nice not being considered Johnny Foreigner but I'm kind of used to being the outsider. Just hoped it hasn't frogged my Spanish up for later today.

As I write this I am sat at a bar in the airport at Liege. No smoking - BOO HISS. But the waitress is rather cute in a diminutive, oriental way. Cool place though, more bars than shops - if only all places were like this!

Doing this makes me feel a bit 'Goth in the City' - tapping away on my puter, watching people and fantasizing about shoes. At least I'm not at work.....hee hee. I wonder if you could actually get paid for rambling - of course you can....I know some journalists ;-)

a bientot,
S

Update #1 -> what a chuffing disaster. If it wasn't for the lovely Sandra Bullock lookalike working for the airline I swear I would have punched someone very hard, on the bottom. In amongst the chaos, she was a shining light - thankyou my dear and big Christmas Gothic kisses to you (did tell you I'd put you on here but forgot to ask for your telephone number - DOH)

Update #2 -> someone up there is taking the piss. Got home, eventually, to a bottle of my best friend Senor Daniels and there on the label is the list of awards JD has won.... 1905 Gold Medal, Liege, Belgium. Little bit ironic - don't you think?!