Have you seen this Steve Martin film, it's one of my favourites, about a man struggling through the snow to get home for Thanksgiving accompanied by a slobby John Candy with whom he is forced to share hotel bedrooms and various modes of transport.
This week Mr FF seems to have been living in his own version, it goes like this.
Mr FF was due to fly to Bratislava on Monday, the arrangement was that his boss would travel up from the north east of England, I would drive Mr FF to the motorway where they would meet up and both go off for meetings before travelling to Edinburgh airport for the flight. Mr FF would fly home later in the week via a meeting in London and I would collect him from Edinburgh airport on Thursday evening. His boss would fly back to Edinburgh on Friday and drive home to Co Durham.
By Sunday looking at the snow and the forecast it was obvious to me that I wouldn't be driving anywhere on Monday but Mr FF said we'd wait and see. On Monday morning he decided to get the bus to our local town and ask his boss to collect him, a little bit out of his way but needs must. I suggested Mr FF phone his boss to see if he was on time but Mr FF dismissed this saying he'd have heard if there was a problem, he set off in winter gear with his luggage to walk the mile to the bus stop. A little while later he was home, his boss hadn't been able to get the car out of the drive and was now on the train. So Mr FF dug out our drive and our little road and drove to the airport, which wasn't a big problem except that en route he got a message to say his flight was cancelled and when I'd checked on the net the airport was closed. When I spoke to him he was being turned away from the airport car park which was impassable. At this stage a lesser (more sensible) man would have given up, oh no, Mr FF said he was going to go into the airport to see if there were any other flights and he asked me to check on line for alternatives. The quickest route I could find took about 12.5 hours and there was still the minor detail of the airport being closed so he came home and his boss got another train back again, the Bratislava trip was off.
The snow kept falling, the airport remained closed but Mr FF booked himself on a flight on Wednesday to go down to London returning Thursday using the last leg of his Bratislava flights. Again he went to the airport, again it was closed, actually it has been closed all week only opening late last night. Might have been logical to come home but Mr FF left his car at the airport, got a bus into Edinburgh and found a train to London. The train left at 10.30, he had an interesting interlude when about 8 Geordie ladies boarded at Newcastle travelling to York who plied him with a giant home baked corned beef pie, plus wine, vodka, chocolate covered strawberries and the like. Unfortunately just before Doncaster the train broke down, the passengers were decanted onto the platform and told there'd be another one shortly. The next train was already full but eventually Mr FF found one that delivered him to Kings Cross at 7.30 that evening.
Unfortunately because of the weather his meeting had been cancelled. I spoke to him that night and said I was worried about him getting home on Thursday, he said it would be no problem as he'd already checked in on line, I did mention that he'd also need to get the **** airport open. Thursday he received a text message to say his flight had been brought forward by a couple of hours, he said the airline was probably consolidating flights but I said I couldn't imagine that would happen as Edinburgh airport was still closed. I'm not 100% sure what happened over the next half day but I received a message to say that he had misread the text and his flight had actually been changed from Thursday to Friday, it was 7.30 at night and could I find him somewhere to stay.
Have you heard the joke about the man who has to take a lorry load of bricks from the north to London. He gets to the big city, stops the vehicle and asks a passer by 'is this London' 'yes' is the reply 'OK' he says 'where do you want these bricks'. Hotel, London, hello. I did eventually get him into a Premier Inn after some heated discussion between us during which he complained about the price.
So Mr FF is due to fly home this afternoon, I've cleared our drive every day, I've kept the stove lit and we are well stocked with provisions even though I haven't been out for a week. The milkman has delivered, the coal man too, haven't seen the postie for a week and it's snowing.
I hope you and yours are where you want to be this weekend. I need to get that man to retire.
Post blog note @ 18.12 He is now home and managed to pick up some fresh veggies on the way. Phew.