I was going to try to keep notes of this year, only work prohibits and distracts me, while what focus on sic efforts there is falls upon the slow recollections of nine current holidays and books.
My efforts then, have been short lived. Not though entirely forgotten.
Zurich. It’s been a fun journey, where I left work with ample time, arriving still earlier than expected in Victoria, a healthy buffer about me.
The intended train as selected from the handy thetrainline site – cancelled, this ought to have run an alarm bell, it didn’t. Instead I was pleased to find a Gatwick express was due to depart in short order and shuffled of in pursuit of that.
The atwick express did not depart on schedule and as I sat it was rather notably on the full side. It had been de-expressed the announcement told us, assuring that the departure would come any time now. Today it would be stopping on its route.
Leaving Victoria it was soon evident that going was going to be more of an issue than a couple of additional unscheduled stops. Carefully, reticently it edged it’s way through South London, like a snake taking m desperate care to go unnoticed in the urban undergrowth.
Gatwick was not getting noticeably closer. I had my buffer mind and bugger all choice other than to sit their and hope good things would come to pass.
I was quite glad I had not cut things more fine, though I did start to ponder on the gate close time rather than the takeoff time, that couldn’t be any hour away by now.
Gatwick did happen and in slightly healthier time m thanks to a final stint flurry of speed… Followed by a stop … & a wait – that had been missed..
The platform was over full, scarcely enough for the arrived to arrive and get past the deportees who were struggling to make their way through the arrives to depart. Relaxing stuff, still I was satisfied the timings were looking better than those times not so long ago studying the flora and fauna of South London rail accompaniment.
Also the station came directly into the terminal (South) that I was leaving from so that was handy.
Departures were plugged, herds of gated people types all hopeful of bursting the dam and finding their way through to security and onward.
15 minutes to the gate closes and I’ve scanned my boarding card – some system somewhere might actually know I’m here and would find an outcome which saw me boarding the plane as preferable.. That or a night with a liberated piece of inventory from the not duty free, or perhaps two, a giant toblerone might not be the finest chocolate but i could see it making a reasonable accompaniment to one of their middle of the road whiskeys, when holidaying at Gatwick one must, after all, keep a mind to budgetary considerations.
Not everyone was obeying the queuing etiquette, the notion that’s it’s some sort of UK rest of the world divide is not true, from my experience the orderly queuing and polite order have if anything been on the up among our neighbours while they have dissolved, if ever they were, at home.
Predicting when if get through here was not easy and id debated approaching a member of staff on a couple of occasions but had always been on the ‘it could work itself out’ side of chance.
It’s odd somehow, if I missed my flight it would not be funny but as I stood there now it remained an abstract concept, things could yet be left to play out, so I waited, neither relaxed nor perturbed in the way that was possibly due.
It was the time when the gate was due to close and I was finally headed out of the security check, not inconvenienced by any additional inspectional examinations or inquiries.
The TVs had moved the closing time on by 10mins and I pondered upon an sandwich, 5 or so of the 10 were not past and who knew how many fellow Zurich bound people were stuck behind me in all the kaffuffle… Still inherent obedience kicked in and I plodded on though the retail hit where food could have been had toward the gates. I’d made it, it had worked out, good-ho.