So this weekend I spent 43 hours in Vienna. As one does.
Let’s first of all have a hooooooooray for the fact that I bloody made it there! I was well and truly convinced that the Ashcloud would thwart my attempts to leave the country for the closest thing to a vacation I’ve had for FIVE YEARS… but I defeated the Ashcloud! At 4pm on Friday afternoon, I slipped casually out of my office, skipped down to Picadilly Circus and hopped on the tube to ride to the end of the line. An hour later… Heathrow! With planes actually taking off! Victory!
Can we have a moment for how freakin easy checking in is these days please? Good lord, I got myself there with an hour and thirty minutes til my boarding time, fully prepared to queue and get naked scanned and whatnot, but nope. I ride the escalator up to the airport, I check myself in on a touch screen computer, chosing myself a nice window seat… and then I have and hour and twenty five minutes of nothingness! Being a jetsetter is easy!
An hour and twenty five minutes of resisting duty free later, I sat down on the plane, looked to my left and couldn’t believe my luck when I saw I was sat beside a tall, dark, handsome man with a suit and good cheekbones.
Of course, I could believe my luck when he took out a German newspaper, couldn’t understand a word of English and apparently had an irrational fear of flying.
So, with Joe Cocker in my ears and an untouched ‘vegetarian option’ cheese sandwich in my lap, I laughed in the face of the Ashcloud and flew to Vienna. Yey!
My flight got in early so I sent Maxie G a text (how much did THAT cost me?) and found the nearest coffee bar, realising very quickly I’d have to learn how to say some key phrases like ‘I’ll have a strong black coffee please’ and ‘Where the heck is the toilet?’ if I was going to survive the weekend. I settled for gestures and pointing for the time being, and had just handed over what I HOPE was the right amount of euros when I heard a very non-german whistle and turned to see the hot pink flash that was Maxie G racing across the arrivals hall toward me, stage makeup and carefully curled hair still well and truly intact.
And all was right with the world.