Where do I begin?

After only posting 3 blogs in as many weeks there is much that I want to share and much I want to get off my little chest; lots to conclude about the holiday but I’m afraid today all I’m going to blog about is our long journey home.  Fifty six hours in total and we didn’t walk through our front door until half past three yesterday afternoon.  What a nightmare and most definitely the worst journey that I have ever had to endure.  Phil says his trip out to Korea several years back still counts as his number 1 worst journey but the flight delays back from Goa comes a close second.

Things didn’t start off too badly on Saturday morning (India time), a wake call from the night porter at 4.30am and a coach pick up at 4.50am.  Checking in at Dabolim airport in Goa is always a complete nightmare but with the extra flights out due to the cancellations the day before meant complete and utter bedlam.  The airport staff at Dabolim have absolutely no idea; it was total chaos, in soaring temperatures, no air conditioning and hundreds of tired, frayed tempers.  It took us an hour just to get into the airport with longs queues outside and a further hour and a half to check in our luggage and get through security.  There was no rush because we knew there was absolutely nothing to do once we got into the departure lounge.   At Dabolim there are no facilities, the best you can get is a sweet cup of tea in a plastic cup and tired, dried up samoosas. No shops, no newspapers, a small dirty duty free kiosk and that’s about it.

We were lucky because we did manage to get 2 seats which is just as well because we had a 4 hour wait until we could board the plane.  We actually sat with the Monarch air crew that were on our Gatwick flight who informed us that due to snow problems our flight once again was being diverted via Bahrain for a refuel.   More joy.  Anyway, we were still optimistic even though we were a few hours late departing and having learnt that it wasn’t a direct flight.

Once we got on the plane this was soon all about to change.  First up we realised that we had the small crappy plane that we flew out in, no leg room and so cramped that poor Phil couldn’t even put down his food tray.  Still it was only a 3 and a half hour flight so we didn’t complain too much.  I watched the in-flight movie (crap film that I’d seen before), Phil listened to podcasts on his iphone4 and a couple glasses of red wine later and we were touching down in Bahrain airport.  I was sat next to a lovely girl called Barbara.

Before we set off the captain wished us a happy onward journey and informed us that a new flight crew would be taking us back to Gatwick.  Now this set alarm bells ringing in my head and I thought it funny because he didn’t say how long we would have at Bahrain.  Naturally Phil and I headed for the bar and spotted that the flight information board said that the Gatwick flight would depart at 1.25pm.  That was okay, just time for a swift pint and a toilet break.   Other passengers from our flight drifted up to the Sky Bar, the atmosphere was friendly; 1.25pm came and went and at 2pm the announcement came to check in back on our plane.   Everybody was checked and the plane sat on the runway for a whole hour and then the captain announced that the flight crew had worked over their contracted time and that as there was no other crew to fly back, Monarch airlines were going to put us in a hotel for the night and another flight crew would fly us back 12 hours later at 3am.   You can imagine how this announcement pissed everyone off.  Why get us back on the plane again only to keep us waiting for an hour and then get us off again???

All the passengers, including us, congregated outside the duty free area.  I’m not sure what we were expecting, a monarch representative with details of how and where we were going? Seems reasonable no? But no; there was nobody, the Bahrain personnel denied knowledge of any hotel or transfer and it was uproar.  One or 2 people decided to act as leaders and so me and Phil and Barbara decided to head back to the bar and ask the leaders to come find us when it was time to go.

Some 3 hours later, Stuart came up and gathered all those in the bar to say that the hotels had been arranged and we were to get quickly down through customs to pick up the coaches which would take us to our allocated hotel.  Phil had brought some wine in duty free and we were sneakily filling up our glasses because prices in Bahrain were extortionate.  Somehow Phil, Barbara and me ended up being on the last coach.  That was fine we were quite merry even though our allocated hotel didn’t look up to much when we finally pulled up outside.  But it was okay, we were knackered by this time and just glad of a place to shower and sleep for a few hours.   The hotel where we stayed was called Pars International Hotel www.parsbahraine.net it was quite nice actually, our room was lovely, we had a hot shower and felt much better even though we only had the hotel toiletries and no change of clothes.

The hotel laid on a lovely buffet but I only managed a bowl of soup, after the wine in the Sky Bar at the airport, I was done in and ready for my bed.  And luckily so was Phil so we both went up at the same time, which was 8pm.  After all the basic rooms in Goa, it was Hotel Pars was pure luxury.  White soft Egyptian sheets in a king size bed in a room with carpet underfoot and a beautiful marble bathroom.  It felt like I was in heaven until 4 and a half hours later when the porter knocked us at 12.30 for our wake up call which was a real shock to the system.  The bus left for the airport at 1am and once through security we met up with all the other passengers.  All was okay, the airport was fairly empty but the café’s and shops were all open.  It felt a bit surreal wondering amongst the Arabs listening to Christmas carols and I felt quite relaxed until I read the flight board which said that our flight, once again, had been delayed until 4.30am.   As other passengers spotted this, the mood changed instantly.   As word got round, people were getting really worked up (as was I) and things took a turn for the worse when the flight board then said that our flight was not going until 6am.  This sent everyone into uproar and we all gathered from our departure gate demanding to see to someone from Monarch airlines.   I don’t think the Bahrain staff really knew what to do or how to cope with the angry passengers.  Me and Phil decided to find a bench to rest.  I kept going back to the departure gate to check for news and on one of my trips I spied the Monarch flight crew, which incidentally were the same crew that flew us from Goa slipping through security at 4am.  It was obvious to me that the flight was never going to depart at 3am; they were just feeding us a load of lies.  But why?  If they knew this why not simply let us sleep and pick us up from the hotel at 4am instead of 1am?   When I got to the departure gate to check on the leader passengers, I think what happened is that the Bahrain staff called the Monarch crew and demanded them to get to the airport to deal with the angry passengers.   This worked but even so our plane still didn’t leave until 5.20am.

Needless to stay the Monarch crew that had dumped us off the night before had a load of angry passengers to deal with.  Personally I was too tired to be hostile but I did give my email details to the leader who reckons she is going to sue the airline.  That’s fine but I also will be lodging my own claim, not for the money but more so, for the way that we were treated, it was totally unacceptable.  Barbara was good company on the way back to London but it was a long uncomfortable flight and seemed to take forever.  Finally we got to Gatwick at 9.3am.  What a relief.

However that wasn’t the end of our nightmare journey.  We got our backpacks after an hour in the south terminal and then went to the National Express to see if we could change our original booking for free.  They said we could and gave us tickets for the 11.45am coach but when I realised that this didn’t get to MK until 3.30pm I said to Phil lets just get the train home.  We were shocked at just how cold it was and I felt a little silly after moaning about the weather in Goa!  We had jeans and a jacket but I felt chilled to the bone.   We took the Victoria express and then the tube to Euston.   Just time for a cup of coffee and a sausage sandwich before boarding the 2.38 fast train going to Birmingham via CMK.

We were tired but happy reading the Sunday tabloids until the train scrunched to a halt outside Berkhamsted station.  The driver announced that there were signal failures in Bletchley; apparently all the trains were loaded and our train was last in the queue.  The driver also said our train was the last to leave Euston and all subsequent trains out of Euston had been suspended.  Not good news.  I was close to losing it by this point, I can be impatient at the best of times but this just tipped me over the edge.  I talked to the train manager and managed to persuade him to manually unlock the doors and let me and Phil off.  He duly complied and was quite sweet really, apologising for the delays and even giving me a bottle of free water from the first class carriage.  A few others followed behind us and we ended up getting a taxi with another girl who was going to Newport Pagnell.

It was 45 quid to MK with one stop which wasn’t too bad between the three of us.  We got the taxi to drop us off at Giffard Park and then gave him a tip to take the other girl to Newport.  Made sense as he was going back to Hemel via the M1 anyway.  I can tell you how lovely it was to finally get back home. Harriet had got us some milk, bread and bacon in but we really were too tired to eat.  I don’t think Harriet was too pleased to see us, her car broke down last week and I think she’d been out partying with the girls the night before.  Also she’s had the house to herself for the last 3 weeks and has been able to please herself without any nagging from me.  Harriet and I managed to row and fall out within the space of half an hour so all back to normal in no time. Still at least the house was fairly clean so that was good because I really wasn’t in the mood for domestics.   Home sweet home. We had a shower, put on our pyjamas and lasted until 8pm before going to bed.  Loads more to say but I’m still weary and I just had to get this rant and rave off my chest.  Tomorrow I will try and sort out the photographs.  For now forgive me, time to sign off and get ready for bed.