9th – 14th February 2023 and 12th – 20th April 2023

My 2nd away trip started as inauspiciously as my previous one to the Isle of Man. My first issue was not bothering to read the ticket information properly and ending up at the wrong airport – Belfast International. Thankfully, I was there in plenty of time and was able to zip down the motorway to the City in about 20 mins.

The next issue – still completely on me misreading things – was that the Malta flight departed at 11.25 and not 14:25 as I thought. The bus between terminals came along adroitly and again no damage was done.

However, the agent is completely to blame for the bollocks over seats on that flight – perhaps it was the accent. My, “I must have a seat at the very front row, row 1.” Somehow got translated into, “Fucking put him anywhere.” Row 10! Christ all fucking mighty. Then it got infinitely worse. I had the aisle and the people who joined almost last to take up the window and middle in my half row were what I have come to call the 4L’s (large lycra-clad ladies from Louisiana).

The vivid colours, bright enough to cause pain, were only matched by their flaunt-it attitude. Think 300lbs of fluorescent jelly. I was nearly sick as it flowed over the armrest towards me and spent most of the flight leaning far out into the aisle.

That is probably unkind, but they subjected me and probably the whole plane to the greatest diatribe of shit I have ever heard. Every woman was telling, ‘Her truth’ and every other sentence was, ‘Kin ah be awn est’ (Can I be honest). So, I presumed that they were lying the rest of the time and surely there is only one truth? Never mind, at least the plane had USB charging points – old ones – didn’t fit my phone.

Next was the plane picnic. What the fuck! Everyone around starting getting sandwiches and shit out of bags to eat. The 4L’s had about 4 dishes each and set about slobbering it down while still talking to each other at a 120 decibels.

Came time to land and we hit Malta just as a Medicane hit – a tropical storm but in the Med. – I don’t even want to think about that landing ever again. The taxi driver said he’d never seen the like and he’s been there 19 years. Floods of rain, roads drowning, cold and miserable – almost like home.

Walked out of the hotel. I know this was a cheap-as-shit, last minute, holiday, but I’m not staying in a dirty crap-house. Found something just down the street – perhaps they took pity on me because I was like a drowned rat climbing up the steps to their foyer with the monsoon piling on top of me trying to wash me back down.