Finally back on the trail. Seems like a very long time since the second bit of Malta in April. Daughters and babies caused a bit of a delay. Anyway. We pick up the story on the Channel Islands – Jersey, Guernsey, Alderney, Sark and Herm.

I was in the terminal building looking at the departure board and realised that I had left my computer in the car. Since I can’t work without it, the next week would be a disaster and I’d have to go home. So, out I went to the bus stop – bus had gone. Waited 15, got on, another 15 back to the Z zone. Got to the car, grabbed the bloody thing and banged back to to the stop – he’d gone. Waited 10, another 10 back to the terminal.
Although I’d left plenty of time I was not now convinced I could make it through security. To the rescue – new machines, everything stays in your bag. Zipped through and went for a coffee, 1 Hour to take-off.
Then the alarms went off and Jordan’s Dublin mates burst through the doors in all their glory and gear. God! but he must love a good alarm. No idea what the problem because I was a-running. Well I say running.
Flight was smooth and quick and wonderfully empty. A throwback to the days that I actually liked to fly. A turboprop which even managed to shave 30 mins of the published arrival time. They also boarded early.
I looked up from my coffee to see ‘Final Call’ way before I was expecting it and had to move swiftly, a lá James May, arriving at the gate with the door already closed. I approached the two be-hi-vised staff who took my passport and boarding card anyway. The machine beeped and flashed red. The woman went to the computer, typed for a moment and said, ‘You’re already boarded.’
I didn’t want to be rude right off the bat and point out the obvious flaw in her statement, so offered up, with what I hoped was a sad smile, ‘The computer says “No” – eh!’
She smiled back – though it could have been withering contempt – and replied, ‘You can board anyway.’
Firstly, what is all this f’ing identity checking for if she can so brazenly override it. And secondly, what’s the bet if I had been another thirty seconds late the plane would have left with my virtual self “boarded”. No need to send out those pesky announcements or Pyrenean rescue dogs. And all just so they could get home early to their gin and tomatoes.