So, back to the start of the break, the alarm going off at 0330hrs (zzzz) we dragged ourselves downstairs, my folks knocking on the front door shortly after, we shuffled, zombielike out to our car and loaded up all the luggage into the boot, my dad taking the wheel (thank goodness) and were whisked the 15 minutes from our front door to the entrance to Gatwick Terminal 1 (we were later to meet a nice family who had driven *four*
hours* - which I can't even start to imagine). We checked in our bags (queue of about 6 people) smiling slightly as we passed the queue of 400 bodies in various states of catatonia awaiting check in for one Easyjet flight (or other) and slipped quickly through security (my shoes beeping for some reason, so I needed to take them off and pop them through the machine - not that they seemed to mind Thomas' bottle of milk that went through accidentally in my rucksack - hrm)...anyway, we emerged into the Duty Free area and found, to some dismay, that it was
so early in the morning everything except Boots the Chemist was closed, so we headed up to the 24 hour cafe area on the balcony above (after picking up some essentials) and contented ourselves with some floppy, aged sandwiches and a couple of hot drinks until the time came for us to go to the gate...I have to admit to a certain amount of trepidation as to how Thomas would cope with the flight, as we neared the waiting room - would he panic? Would he get bored and strop and scream and turn *
every one's* flight into a nightmare? We had packed books, stickers, snacks, drinks even the Shinco portable DVD player loaded up with hundreds of episodes of Mr Men, Thomas the Tank Engine and In the Night Garden (just in case)...as it was...
He absolutely loved it, getting more and more excited as first we boarded the "BUS!!!!!!!!!!" then went up the "STAIRS!!!!!!!!!" and then finally onto the "AIIIIIPANE!!!!!", found our seats (only about 100 people on our flight, so we both had two free seats next to us, which was brilliant) and then Thomas bounced around thrilled by the takeoff and the "CWOUDS!!!" out the window until everything proved too much...
...and he fell into a deep sleep for the remainer of the flight, allowing Mummy and Daddy to read their books, which frankly couldn't have gone any better, never even got the Shinco out of my rucksack... ;)
He woke up upon landing (flight to Malaga is only about 2 hours, but we had been delayed on the ground for a little while thanks to French air traffic controllers being -
very oddly - on strike again) and then Thomas helped me get a little trolley, our luggage (and push chair) came out practically first and then we were on the transfer bus (after a baffling series of directions down to the car park) -delayed only briefly when it was discovered that we had a stowaway that should have been on the bus next door- the transfer was only another 20 minutes, during which Thomas excitedly explained to us what all the other vehicles on the road were...and then we found ourselves walking into reception (
well before lunchtime)!
