21. Gypsies, Tramps & Heaves!

A visit back to the UK for a week in October went without incident, for a change; and the reason for the trip, a grandsons' christenening, provided us with a chance to catch up with some long standing friends as well as family. It was so much easier than trying to catch up with them individually, which has always been something of a problem on our visits back "home".


This time round we did not have the use of a car and, because it wasn't practical to hire one due to our stopping off places, we relied public transport, which surprisingly worked out very well. In the space of six days we stayed at three different locations and never got the chance to "settle in" at any of our stop overs. The attraction of living a lifestyle involving packing every few days has always escaped me entirely; and the fact that in six days I didn't see the bottom of our suitcase did nothing to alter my view.


Of course the other drawback was that by the end of the week our small selection of clothes was looking a bit worse for wear (pun intended). Not spending long enough in one place to do any washing meant that a quick bit of ironing had to do. This was entirely unsatisfactory and I for one was glad to climb into the set of CLEAN clothes I had saved for the return trip.


The flight back from Manchester to Corfu was uneventful until about half an hour before we were due to land. Our pilot announced that because of all the rubber left on the runway by thousands of tyres over the summer, and that there was heavy rain over the airport, we would be going into a holding pattern until it was safe to land. The phrase "ice rink" appeared somewhere in his explanation, and I would have preferred him to be a little less specific with his description! He informed us that we had extra fuel on board for another hours flying and promised further updates. Our holding pattern had us flying at 15,000 feet over the Ionian Sea which was clearly visible through the odd break in the clouds. Viewing the size of the sea swell it didn't take much to figure out that "heavy rain" translated into "full blown storm", and we learned later that the wind speed had been gusting to force 8 on the Beaufort Scale!

Half an hour after the initial announcement there were some of us looking nervously at our watches; after all, if Corfu was a no go, a diversion should be imminent, shouldn't it? By now we were into that one hour reserve and the possibility of spending the night in Italy or Albania, or who knows where, looked like becoming a reality. Before nervousness turned into panic our confident sounding captain was pleased to announce that we had been cleared to land and were beginning our descent into Corfu. After the necessary adjustments to our position we began to lose height for final approach and that's when the real fun started.

The nearer we got to Corfu, the worse the weather got! It clearly hadn't stopped raining, it fact it looked considerably heavier through the aircraft windows. And then we began to feel the full effect of those winds. The plane started rising and falling dramatically, coupled with definite sideways motions, and the wings were flapping like a carrier pigeon who was late with a communique!!! The rain was travelling horizontally as the runway came into view through the window, and then the aircraft seemed to drop the last few feet onto the runway resulting in an almighty thud and a slide sideways of at least fifteen yards!! I am probably right in thinking that, at this moment, the phrase "ice rink" flashed through most of the passengers minds. The pilot managed a nifty correction and, with clouds of water spraying from the wheels, obscuring any view through my window, the aircraft came safely to a halt. Our pilots then received a spontaneous round of loud applause, which was thoroughly deserved.

I've never seen sick bags in use AFTER a landing before and there were still some very pale looking people rushing for the toilets after collecting their luggage.

Quoting what, if I recall correctly, is an old WWII saying........................

"Any landing you walk away from is a good one".

Now you would expect that to be the end of this posting but, unfortunately for us, there was more to come. As we live on the mainland, we have to make the ferry journey from Corfu to Igoumenitsa to get home. The ferries are a mixed selection of sizes and normally run every half hour or so throughout the day. But not in force 8 gales!! We arrived at the port to find that there were no imminent sailings and the question "When?" was met with a typical shrug of the shoulders and "Avrio?" (Tomorrow? Maybe!)
As there seemed to be quite a number of Greeks willing to wait and see we decided to do likewise and trooped off to the far end of the dock for a coffee; no mean distance with a suitcase and bags I might add! At least it had stopped raining and there was one of the larger ferries tied up by the cafe. As the loading ramp was down it looked like there was a possibility that this one would sail at some point.

After coffee and a ciggie and a rest I decided to walk back down to the ticket booths to find out if there was any updated information. Heartened by the fact that the waiting crowd had increased in size I approached the sales windows to find them all closed and empty. As I set off back to give Margaret the not so good news the heavens opened with a vengeance and, by the time I arrived back at the cafe, I looked like I had been dipped in the harbour!! I had to delve into the suitcase for a pair of dry jeans and change in the toilets along with a few other intrepid souls who had been caught out like me.

We waited round for another hour or so and, with a break in the weather, set off to the ticket booths again. On arrival we found the crowd of hopefuls was even bigger and, although we were by now resigned to spending the night in a hotel, we opted to wait a little longer. That wait proved to be longer than expected as we were hit with a very violent and slow moving thunderstorm. The only shelter available was an open sided canopy which very rapidly filled up!

We were still trapped by the downpour when there was a sudden rush for a ticket booth; Margaret joined the queue as I guarded the suitcase and bags, and three quarters of an hour later she reappeared clutching two tickets. I enquired which of the many ferries tied up they were for and was not in the least surprised to find out that it was the one at the far end of the dock by the cafe!!! So off we set, in the pouring rain, and by the time we were seated in the ferrys' lounge we were BOTH wet through; but at least we knew we would sleep in our own bed that night.

Surprisingly, given the weather conditions, the sea crossing was uneventful and we eventually arrived home safe and sound. From leaving for Manchester airport to arriving home took 19 1/2 hours, of which only 6 1/2 was actually travelling anywhere.

Although neither of us gave voice to it, some of the looks we exchanged had that "Is it really worth it?" expression. We have to go back again next August for a family wedding, but at least the weather will be kinder then.

There again, knowing us.............??????????????.