This post is back dated from way back in April. But chalo, I’ll post it.
It is a tradition, that a holiday must be interspersed by entirely stupid squabbles.
In the past these minor squabbles would have been swiftly escalated into a magma melting disaster-thon.
The ex and I maintain this holiday tradition, but have now mellowed enough that a minor quarrel will last for about a morning of intense sulking merely to give a certain piquancy to the merriness of the holiday.
Although I have deep founded suspicions that cheap flight carriers (Like Easy Jet or Ryan Air-Hole) are determined to find some excuse not to let people on their planes, they did let us on after all. This is a constant fear I suffer from when traveling.
In fact it’s not even such an unreasonable fear, since they try every low-down method imaginable to exhort more money out of their victims, I mean customers.
The luggage dimensions must be 35 cm x 45 cm x 25 precisely and must weigh 8 kilos and 0.23 pounds exactly or you will incur a fee of £40.
All luggage is must conform to the approved colours of black or brown only. Any other colours of luggage will incur a fee.
If you attempt to argue these rules you will incur an impertinence fee of £40. If you speak or make eye contact with a member of the Ryan air-hole staff in manner deemed inappropriate you will incur a fee.
Being the wonderful holiday planner that I am, I had not converted any money to euros until I got to the airport. I like to leave these essentials to the very last-minute as a matter of principle. (The airport had a terrible rate, nearly 1 : 1. It turns out everywhere had a bad rate except the ex who got a great rate by some secret undisclosed method. I remember the good ol’ days when going on a jaunt to Europe was like going to a third world country money wise. Ah those were the times. Now what’s the fucking point?)
I also like the ex to validate my financial choices because I’m mentally incapable of coming to any decision with things like money. The ex HATES my dependency on matters of efficiency and business. So the ex REFUSES to help me. (Yes, please notice my random capitalizations)
I pleaded, begged, groveled and eventually sulked furiously. Then I just bought the bad rate. I can’t be bothered with this good business crap. I leave that for the Gujus and Marawadis.
No matter how early you are at the airport, and how long you have waited, just before they close the gate you find you have something vital you need to do. Like pee, or eat, or buy a Frappachino.
Of course Ryan Air-hole has the briefest window for when the gate is open and being the sociopathic despots that they are they like to terrify all passengers by leaving the gate open only for about 10 minutes, while announcing nearly as soon as they’ve opened it
“The gates will be closing now. Please go to your gate. If you miss your flight Ryan hole will not be responsible. The gate is closing now.”
So this means I had to run like a maniac to Gate number 224 or whatever with my Frappachino. The ex being organised and timely was already waiting at the gate.
YEAH, BUT DID THE EX HAVE A FRAPPACHINO?? EXACTLY! I DONT THINK SO!!!
We landed late in the evening. The hotel I picked was in a very central part of town. (Thank god, or I’d never have heard the end of it). The next day after a breakfast that consisted of vending machine croissants and coffee we jaunted off to see Seville. I planned a number of touristy sight-seeing things to do.
Half way through the morning we had a small spat because of differing holidaying ideological beliefs. The ex wanted to stroll aimlessly, I wanted to see the Cathedral and the Palace and some other shit before we wasted the day.
Even though we were both sulking I made use of my time by drawing this in the Orange courtyard of the Cathedral.
It’s a fairly shoddy little sketch, but you know, I like it for 7 mins worth.
We patched up the quarrel once we left the Cathedral and had a late lunch, (I’ve noticed that a good meal always seems to patch up our spats.) and went off to follow my rigorous schedule of sightseeing.
Which I’m very glad we did.
I’m not flying Ryan hole to fucking stroll around and see nothing.