Friday was a day that went ahead with military planning and precision. Can you hear the sarcasm already?
I’d planned it all the night before and it would end with us having at least two hours at the airport given that there was no traffic. I had forgotten it was Friday which meant that the traffic would be heavier than normal. I only remembered this at around 11am on the Friday, thirty minutes before we were due to head off.
We left five minutes after I’d planned.
So the plan…
1130 – Leave home.
1215 – Arrive Knock Airport. Drop off brother & (future) sister-in-law.
1220 – Leave Knock Airport.
1305 – Arrive home to collect dogs, cats and luggage.
1310 – Leave home for the Duggans
1340 – Arrive at the Duggans. Drop off animals.
1345 – Leave for Shannon Airport.
1445 – Arrive Shannon Airport, leave car in the long stay car park.
1500 – Head through security.
1515 – Settle down for two hours until flight at 1730.
So, as I said, we left at 1135, five minutes after I’d planned. Traffic wasn’t too bad although just before Ballydine we got stuck behind the hundreds of people heading for the funeral of a person they’d probably never met but would still happily accept drinks from the family. Finally we got to Knock, dropped off the family, said our goodbyes and then headed home to collect the dogs and cats. By the time we left Knock Airport it was 1245, so we were already twenty-five minutes behind “the plan” and to make matters worse as we came into Ballydine we hit everyone leaving the fucking funeral!
We finally got home at around 1345, now forty minutes behind behind schedule. Running around the house, grabbing everything and throwing it in the car, we left home around 1415, over an hour later than planned. Anyone who has stayed with me for more than two days will know how I get when things don’t go to plan. Actually, anyone who has read my blog will know how I get when things don’t go to plan, so you should be able to imagine the state I was in by now.
At 1450 we arrived at the Duggans, ran in, dropped off the dogs and cats, explained that we were sorry but we were in a rush and then ran out the door. I’m quite sure Bert was just humouring me and would have happily stayed for a coffee. As it was he could see the sense of urgency in my eyes so forewent any beverage.
At around 1500 we left the Duggans. Now an hour and twenty minutes behind schedule. It didn’t matter too much though as Shannon was only an hour away so we’d get the for 4pm and all would be well!
Ten minutes from leaving Claregalway we hit the traffic from the roadwork’s for the bypass. There are quite a few differences between the traffic lights in the UK and those here in Ireland. For a start there is no amber light when going from red to green, it’s just straight to green. This is fine apart
from when you’re not paying attention and as soon as the person behind hits the horn to tell you the lights are on green they turn to red! The main difference though is the red light. It doesn’t actually mean as much over here as it does in the UK, it’s just a pretty colour. It was this difference that caused us all the trouble.
Sat in the driving seat I could see the road ahead and could see that everything was moving so slowly. Bert had a quick look on his phone for a short cut but given his recent track record on short cuts I decided that ignoring him was better and sitting in the traffic would be just fine.
We arrived at the airport at 1700. If we’d had to check in we’d have been fucked! As we ran down the stairs to where our plane usually goes from people had just started queuing and a few minutes later they called the flight.
An hour later we’d be in Manchester!
Huzzah!
