oh the airports i've been to

I am writing this from Terminal 5, Zone D, Gate G, line 23, coffee shop 24, flight attempt 1225, thinking ja this is really going to work out. I have a coffee and obligatory cinnamon bun from Pret a Porter, the BA app alerts on my phone and 3 pounds in my pocket. I am semi-awake after spending 12 hours in a teeny tiny neon lit purple room in an airport hotel, for which I am extremely grateful, with at least four trips between London Gatwick and Heathrow airports under my belt.

If I had a belt; I left it on one of the conveyer belts going through security number 1000.

And there were actually six but I cannot count anymore.

If all goes according to plan, I will arrive in Madrid tonight. My life has started to feel like groundhog day, or even, remember that guy played by Tom Hanks who got stuck in Terminal One in Charles de Gaulle Airport for eighteen years. I am not stuck in an airport, just the bus between airports, it’s Heathrow, no it’s Gatwick, no you need to be at Heathrow, oh the flight left YESTERDAY, it’s tomorrow, okay fine you can check in, wait there is a delay, overbooked you say, what, oh thank god I am on, thank you thank you, HANG ON YOUR VISA IS NOT VALID, step back step back from the counter, step back…

I stepped back. After all the changes, the considerations, the pounds, the excitement, the missed flight, the new flight, I had not considered checking my Schengen visa. It is valid from today, 21 May because the countries who issue these visas, this is a whole other story, are VERY VERY STRICT about dates. There is no flexibility. I forgot about that for a brief moment of madness, how could I, the 429 hours waiting in the visa queue must have made me hazy for a short bit.

Like the whole last year of planning.

If I had travelled yesterday, as I was meant to, I would have landed in Madrid at midnight. And my visa would be right on time. But who was I to argue with someone yelling STEP BACK.

After stepping back, with my cheeks burning a hole through my face, sorting out an airport hotel, traipsing around Gatwick looking for a sandwich, booking flight number four for the same routing, triple checking the departure airport, doing my 10000 steps between gates, I am about ready to check in.

If I can find my passport. Which is not so welcome in so many countries.

Booking flights has become tricky. Unless it is just me. There are so many choices to make, connections to worry about, airports to consider, time zones to think about, long lines to deal with, seats to pay for, digital check-ins to remember. I always tell my clients USE AN AGENT.

And yet…