All's Well That Ends Well
After remembering something I read on the Internet about how to break into a suitcase we all managed to get a few hours sleep before my son's phone went off with a "you have a voicemail" alert.
"...my area fund jackeet wit sport ...ssss...'ere...airaporta you collect cold air...ssss..." click.
"WTF?"
"Sounds like they've found your jacket & passport mate."
"Can I drive?"
"If you must".
We got to a *very* hot and crowded Palma airport at about midday having spent a while getting "satnav lost" again in the very same town from a few hours earlier. Nowhere to park near the terminal, we ultimately parked back in the rental bays on the other side of the terminal building.
We had no idea where to go. So we guessed and headed for the information desk in Arrivals where my son played the message to the man.
"That sounds like Maria. She ees on the Goldcar desk wheech is just there."
The entire population of Basildon seemed to queuing for a car. I went to the end of the queue and steeled myself for a long wait in the heat.
"Sod that, I ain't waitin'" and my son marched to the front of the queue and thrust the phone through the hole in the glass partition in the direction of the woman behind the desk.
"That ees me. Your jackeet ees in the return desk over there" and pointed vaguely in the direction of where we had parked the car1.
I found myself retreating quickly repeatedly saying "sorry, sorry, lost jacket, sorry, every so sorry" in the general direction of the queue. "That's alright mate, we're British, we don't mind queueing".
We retrieved the jacket plus passport-in-buttoned-pocket from the rental desk. My son checked the other pocket - empty. He fixed the girl behind the desk with a knowing stare.
"Where are the keys that were in this pocket, the ones that were on the nice bottle-opener-keyring?"
"Nope, that's it, when it was handed in that's all that was in it."
"Oh well, we can always get the padlocks cut off" I said.
We headed back to the car.
"It's a good job you told me to put the ring in the suitcase2 before we left home just in case they found it at the security check at Gatwick and my girlfriend saw it."
"Indeed. Tell you what, just follow the signposts back to Cala D'Or and ignore Emily3."
1In fact, right next to where we had parked the car.
2Yeah, I know, I could have mentioned this earlier. Sorry.
3Emily-who-speaks-streenames.
"...my area fund jackeet wit sport ...ssss...'ere...airaporta you collect cold air...ssss..." click.
"WTF?"
"Sounds like they've found your jacket & passport mate."
"Can I drive?"
"If you must".
We got to a *very* hot and crowded Palma airport at about midday having spent a while getting "satnav lost" again in the very same town from a few hours earlier. Nowhere to park near the terminal, we ultimately parked back in the rental bays on the other side of the terminal building.
We had no idea where to go. So we guessed and headed for the information desk in Arrivals where my son played the message to the man.
"That sounds like Maria. She ees on the Goldcar desk wheech is just there."
The entire population of Basildon seemed to queuing for a car. I went to the end of the queue and steeled myself for a long wait in the heat.
"Sod that, I ain't waitin'" and my son marched to the front of the queue and thrust the phone through the hole in the glass partition in the direction of the woman behind the desk.
"That ees me. Your jackeet ees in the return desk over there" and pointed vaguely in the direction of where we had parked the car1.
I found myself retreating quickly repeatedly saying "sorry, sorry, lost jacket, sorry, every so sorry" in the general direction of the queue. "That's alright mate, we're British, we don't mind queueing".
We retrieved the jacket plus passport-in-buttoned-pocket from the rental desk. My son checked the other pocket - empty. He fixed the girl behind the desk with a knowing stare.
"Where are the keys that were in this pocket, the ones that were on the nice bottle-opener-keyring?"
"Nope, that's it, when it was handed in that's all that was in it."
"Oh well, we can always get the padlocks cut off" I said.
We headed back to the car.
"It's a good job you told me to put the ring in the suitcase2 before we left home just in case they found it at the security check at Gatwick and my girlfriend saw it."
"Indeed. Tell you what, just follow the signposts back to Cala D'Or and ignore Emily3."
1In fact, right next to where we had parked the car.
2Yeah, I know, I could have mentioned this earlier. Sorry.
3Emily-who-speaks-streenames.
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