Lansarote 2014.

Doncaster is undoubtedly the best airport in the world. I flashed my Thompson flight tickets and we were off. Granted I had to assume a sort of dismembered arms lotus position for four hours but even that added to the play value of consuming the in-flight meal. We landed at Alicanti and all was going swimmingly. As it wasn’t a Thompson holiday the rep didn’t want to know, and as I hadn’t printed out our holiday details I only had my fast fading memories of booking it to go by. It was a Late ‘something’ holiday in, I seem to remember, Costa Tegese and location ‘something with a Sol in it.’ No one including Mothermouse was impressed with this information. She being a lovely person suppressed thoughts of mutilation and opted for making me fully aware that going on holiday with just a boarding pass was the action of a really stupid person, and when that really stupid person is your own husband it could, if one wasn’t supremely kind and understanding, drive one to being very angry indeed. I asked various rushing-about-people to no avail. I went back to the Thompson rep who remained detached. Luckily a young chubby chap next to her, who I’d previously dismissed as just there for a convenient oxygen supply, offered me the magic key, “that desk over there does that sort of thing.”  The woman Spanish, tanned but somehow ugly was terse. “Low what?” “Lowcost (or was it Last Minute?) holidays.com.” She looked at me tersely questioning the one fragment of information I was pinning my hopes on. “Name?” With the euphoria to match the recent birth of my first grandchild she found me on her list. “Outside and wait on the left.” Though this was excellent news ‘waiting’ still seemed fraught with the possibility of dying lost and alone. Did her list truly have the power to save us from package holiday extinction? It did. “Bay 6.” I glimpsed ‘Sol Apartments’ on her flailing document as she pointed to somewhere over there. Another travel save! If Mothermouse knew my travel history she wouldn’t have left me to book it; it doesn’t read well. She later pointed out it was Ariccefe not Alicanti, “Alicanti’s in Portugal.”