One of those days

We've all had them, one of those days when not everything goes wrong but pretty close to it. Major things occur during the day that seem like the end of the world, things that could cause your blood pressure to rise and your chest pump with rage, unless like me you can learn to cope with these unexpected occurances that are out of your control.
Okay so that last bit isn't quite true, I am probably the least tolerant and most unable person to cope with the unexpected. If a plane, train or bus is scheduled to leave at a certain time then to my mind there is no reason for it not to do so. How can it be so difficult?

Having had a fantastic week on the island of Madeira we had breakfast in the hotel and checked out after refusing to pay €14.60 for phone calls we hadn't made and found our taxi driver was waiting to take us on the twenty-five minute ride to Funchal airport. His yellow Mercedes was draped in Benfica flags and a minor shrine to the Blessed Virgin on the dashboard. This portly moustache wielding latter day highwayman then set off into the Madeiran rush hour only using his brakes as a last resort. The speed we hit on the busy expressway was now getting serious, the needle hit 150kmh (an unhealthy 95mph) and exiting a tunnel onto a high level viaduct the car suddenly started weaving and snaking at high speed, "senor...SENOR, por favor SLOW DOWN", he did but only for a couple of kilometres, and my next utterance (after much swearing) was "he's got no chance of a tip".

Thankfully the Virgin Mary was looking after us and we got to the airport alive, SuperMario went off to get us a trolley which we didn't need "he's still not getting a tip" and then asked for €32.30. Now then, I'd booked it and the agreed price was €30, I know it's only €2.30 difference but stay with me here, it's the principle of the thing. I did a deal for thirty bucks which is more than enough for what proved to be a ten minute ride, you can hire a cab for half a day for forty euros! So me and this big moustache argued over who was right and when I called a policeman to my assistance he quickly weighed it up, on one hand a taxi driver sporting a giant rug on his top lip and an extremely irate soon to be departing tourist. His response was to ignore the whole incident and walk away, cheers mate thanks a bunch, so in my worst Portuguese I told the driver my thoughts of him and waited for my seventy cents change.

I was in a fit of rage, my girlfriend all the time telling me to forget it and calm down, wise words but I wasn't listening I was so incensed I forgot that he'd nearly killed us. Moving into the airport the next thing I see is our flight is no longer 1115 but 1225, "oh well, lets check in anyway" but oh no, easyjet have other ideas, so an hour later we get checked in and find that the flight is now set to leave at 1300. At last we're going to board the plane but at quarter past two we're on but being told to get off and wait in the lounge in the terminal while a gang of moustachios sort out a technical problem. Oh well, I didn't want to see the Turkey v Germany game anyway.

Needless to say I took this in my stride and calmly left the aircraft for the terminal, I had a great seat too, would I get the legroom I craved when we reboard? if we reboard. Being held in a limbo world between duty free and the aircraft my frayed nerves had to contend with screaming children and those who hold "speedy boarding" tickets. If you want a better class of travel you don't fly easyjet, if you want to get somewhere sunny for £80 return you do fly easyjet and take all the scrummaging that goes with it Those mugs who pay the extra just to get on first so that they can read their Daily Mails by the window, remember this, I always get on pretty early, get the most legroom and don't pay a penny more than when I bought the ticket.

So after cruising up and down Funchals runway to see if the new landing gear circuit board from the local Tandy shop is working the plane finally got away and back to Gatwick, a train journey back to Fratton and rushing over the footbridge to Smiffys Sports Bar on Goldsmith Avenue we ordered beer but they only had Fosters and settled in to watch the rest of Turkey v Germany.
All was not well, no picture which thankfully meant no Motson but the radio was on which meant Alan Green, just how bad could this day get? Soon answered, Germany go 2-1 ahead, pictures return and we see Turkey come back to two each but even as I was cheering the Turks and looking forward to extra time the Germans joined in the conspiracy and scored a third to book their place in the final of 2008s European Championship.

Never mind, I've learnt from the experiences of that day and whatever happens to you in "one of those days", you'll look back and think it wasn't that bad after all, nobody died and remember, there's always someone worse off than yourself, the awful scenes on the news from Zimbabwe reminded me of that.