So, as I mentioned in a previous blog, the other half has gone to the US to help out with son+new wife+twins. To get to Heathrow (LHR) involves a local train ride, then a bus link to the airport. The flight's at 1600: we have plenty of time to make it. What can possibly go wrong?

Firstly, she's up at six and buzzing. Packing was done the day before, but she's moving around the bedroom and making it impossible for me to sleep. Argh. Get up anyway, although I know I'll pay for it later.

At the station there seems to be a large number of people milling around. Fortunately we pre-bought our tickets two days earlier so get straight onto the busy platform. It is well gone 0900: the rush hour has finished, what's happening? A woman who turns out to be the duty manager tells us that all the signals on our line have gone funny, showing red, amber, green in almost any possible combination. Perhaps even blue. Trains are being talked from signal to signal.

Ours turns up 25 minutes late, then goes straight to Reading without the scheduled stops. Just before Reading, the conductor checks all tickets and as I put mine away, I notice the date is wrong. While she has the correct dates on hers, mine (a day return) has the date we bought the tickets. So off to Excess Fares to explain. Fortunately, I'm allowed to buy a correct ticket without penalty and told I can reclaim back the bad one.

On to the bus, which does its thing and gets us to Terminal 3 in good time to permit us to eat lunch before she submits herself to the security theatre as specified. So we go to the bag check-in to get rid of the hold luggage.

"Passport, please."
"Here you are."
"But... this is his passport, not yours."

D'oh! Now the old blue UK passports had your name on the front but these modern Euro-compatible thingies don't. She has picked up mine instead of hers. I deliberately decided not to take mine, in case there were complications, but if I had done we would have discovered the mistake before we left...

The girl at the check-in does some sums and says that she can put off checking in until 1500. The alternative is to move to a (much) later flight. Can I get home and back again with the right passport? Not by public transport, that's for certain. Then I have a brainwave. Taxi!

The 'concierge' who runs the departures floor at Virgin Atlantic has a friend who might be able to help but it will cost £150. That's... about a pound a mile and, under the circumstances, might just work. Ten minutes and this Asian guy turns up in a (Private Hire) Galaxy and we're off down the motorway.

I have to stop somewhere to get the cash out of a hole-in-the-wall and I spend about 30 seconds in the house before we're off again. The car keeps speeding up and slowing down again, and I'm wondering why. Eventually the driver tells me it's Eid (of course) and he got dragged out of a celebratory feast with his family to do this rush job. He keeps falling asleep on the motorway because he's full of food. I say nothing and keep my eyes on the road.

I get back at 1430, surprising everybody and hand over the correct passport. We check her in, dump the hold bag and then she tells me... the flight's been delayed for three hours. D'oh! So time for me to have a much-delayed lunch and to take things a little less frantically.

Finally she's off through the gates and I get the bus back to Reading. The air-conditioning works so hard that my right side (by the window) is freezing. At terminal 5 one of the other passengers complains so the driver turns the air-con off and opens one of the roof-lights to let fresh air in. As he pulls away it begins to rain...

Back at the departure station I go and get a form to reclaim the bad tickets. While I fill it in a queue forms and I have to wait 15 minutes to hand the form in. Then the ticket clerk has to go out and get my return ticket from the bin in the barrier gate. It all works in the end, and I actually manage to catch the last bus of the day (1840) to save having to climb back up the hill to the house.

I'm home and hyper from having drunk far too much coffee. My partnere eventually gets to NY and exits the terminal at midnight local - 0500 here.

What a day!

Penny

PS Got the labelling machine out. I don't care what regulations I'm breaking, I'm going to put our initials on the back of our passports.