Back to the UK...

Our last day in Gibraltar was Saturday, and Mum and I were flying out at 19:10 (local time - +2 hrs GMT), so we had quite a bit of time to kill..

The morning was somewhat overcast, and the cloud formation on the rock was something that I was determined to get a photograph of:

We decided to head down towards Casement Square to go and get something for lunch, and as we were walking down Main Street, we heard pipes and drums.. I wasn't quick enough with my camera to get the approach, but I did manage to get this picture:

According to one of the locals, they were marching to Casement Square for the ceremony of the keys, which took place every Saturday at 12:00...

Unfortunately, Mum wasn't fit enough to walk down to the square for 12:00, and I was unwilling to leave her to go and see the ceremony.. But I did manage to get this picture of the guards preparing to march back up Main Street:

The rest of the day, Mum and I spent shopping for the usual silly last minute bits and pieces, before heading to the airport... Which was where the fun and games started.

The first part was the total fiasco that passed for check-in. One desk for our flight (Monarch), whilst the BA flight had about four desks... Once that particular hurdle was dealt with, it was relatively painless to go through security and all the other formalities... And then we reached the departure lounge. And I though Jersey airport was primative!

Thankfully, we didn't have too long to wait before our flight, and were able to get semi-comfortable.. (I swear that they'd crammed more seats on the damned plane, but that's another grump that I've always had about travelling!)

The landing at Luton. What can I say, apart from the fact that I swear the aircraft thought it was a kangaroo. It bounced about 4 times on landing, and then it was the fun and games of the hike to passport control. Mum was knackered, and I wasn't much better, and to be honest, I was less than impressed with Luton airport's groundstaff.

They could see that Mum was struggling, and yet when you asked for help, it was a case of "sorry - not my department." I felt like asking them if they knew the meaning of customer service, but I didn't, as I was too damned tired, and all I wanted to do was get the case and get the hell out of there.

Then came the fun with the damned taxi. Neither mum or I were told that the driver would be waiting outside, so that added another 45 minutes to the time that we were stuck in the airport!

Needless to say, the pair of us have said that in future, we will refuse to travel from Luton, as it's a pain in the tail to get to, and a bloody mess.

Suppose I should log off and bog off, as I've got stuff to do around the house.

Back when I get the chance.

Karen.

I walk where others fear to tread