Well, dear friends, so my darling Ian and me went on our yearly family visit to Greece – which ended up being a round trip… But let me start from the beginning: as usual, we set out last month from our lovely hometown of Holyhead, Wales, to Manchester, where we stayed the night at the Premier Inn Hotel near the airport, and early the next morning we flew to Athens with easyjet – an enjoyable experience, as far as I’m capable of enjoying flying, with reasonably comfortable seats, friendly staff and a nice choice of cold and hot food and drinks.
We had a warm welcome from my Mum, who’s fit as a fiddle at now 86, and stayed with her in her new home in the heart of Athens, right at the back of the stadium of Panathinaikos FC (quite an eyesore for an AEK supporter like me…); my daughter Marianna and her husband came round for a chat, and Jimmy the Panther was jumping up and down the dinner table as ever.
We met with some of my Mum’s German expat friends and had a jolly good time – until we heard that a general strike was coming, on the very day we were booked to fly home…
It was the second general strike within two months, and of course the people of Greece have lots of reasons for going on strike – the right-wing capitalist Nea Dimokratia government and its Prime Minister, a third generation specimen of the infamous and stinking rich Mitsotakis clan, has literally brought the population to its knees in the six years it’s been in power; rents and prices have skyrocketed, and many people live on the brink of poverty. Well, I can only hope that my friends in Greece have learned now once and for all never to vote for any member of that arch-capitalist family again…
So, I supported the strikers with all my heart, of course; but that didn’t change the fact that, on the day we were to fly home, the country would come to a standstill and everything would make way for the big demonstrations, many of which I’d participated in myself in my day…
Of course, we’d been keeping an eye out for a notification from our airline, which it seems closed its eyes to reality until the last moment; only on the day of the strike our flight was confirmed cancelled on the app. So, I rebooked us immediately on the next available flight the following afternoon – I got a confirmation email telling us the details for the new booking would come in soon. Everything fine, I thought – but nothing came in, and Ian and me engaged in an all-afternoon phone and chatline marathon with the, I’m sorry to say, pretty useless employees of easyjet both in Greece and the UK. We went to bed still knowing nothing, and decided we’d just head to the airport the next day and see what was going on.
There, after a long odyssey, we found somebody who was actually able to deal with the easyjet people and told us that Ian had been booked on the promised afternoon flight, but I hadn’t… It took him and us another hour or so of negotiations and research until he finally found us the two last seats on a plane that night back to dear old Blighty – not to Manchester, but to London Gatwick…
By then we really didn’t care anymore – we accepted the seats, paid for them (again…), cancelled the room in Manchester and booked another one in Gatwick. Honestly, I’d never been craving a drink so much since I jumped on the wagon eight months ago! But I restrained myself, we had some nice snacks and a very long wait in the airport café, and at 11pm we could board our plane at last – back home to good old Britain! We arrived at Gatwick at 1am local time, got a taxi straight to our Premier Inn and fell into bed…
And when we woke up in the morning, we really asked ourselves: What happened?? Where are we?? What, in… London??? Surreal as it all seemed, it was also somehow a nice little adventure! We had a very big breakfast and then called a taxi to take us into town to Euston Station; and only when we stepped outside we realised what an idyllic place we’d spent the night in: a renovated old hotel surrounded by green; you wouldn’t believe you’re only a few miles from the great asphalt jungle called London!
I must say, even though I’d got a bit fed up with London by the time we moved to Wales – all that noise and rush, the cars and sirens and pickpockets – , but that morning I fell in love with our former hometown all over again! We had a gorgeous drive in the sunshine right through the city, a real sightseeing tour from Croydon and Brixton across the Thames to Bloomsbury and finally Euston Station; what a treat for us, especially for my darling Ian, who’d lived in London for 50 years and still has a special place in his heart for it!
Equally enjoyable was our train journey from London back home to Holyhead – what a joy to be home again!! Our lovely flat was just as we’d left it, and we fell on the sofa exhausted and asked ourselves: now what was that we just did? A… round trip to Athens and back!
Of course, the next day we sent an email to easyjet describing our odyssey and summing up all our extra expenses resulting from their incompetence; and I must say, they came back with a rather grovelling response full of apologies and the promise they’d pay up. Still, though I’ve got no grudge against easyjet in particular anymore, we’ve decided we won’t fly with them again – because we’ll never fly ever again. I admire you people who love and enjoy air travel, but I’m afraid neither me nor my darling husband do (being 30,000 feet above the ground is just not a very reassuring feeling), and so next time we’ll find a land and/or sea route to Greece; there’s nothing like being grounded!
What about you, dear friends, have you ever had any loony travelling experience like ours? I’d love to hear your stories!
See you soon, and happy May Day!
Roberta Franklin 