Bank Holiday in the UK. I travel back to Hungary. Enjoy the delights of the business lounge. Receive some piece of paper. It is not a British Midland plane. What do I care. I manage to get my trolley case on board with me. This was defiantly good planning. We leave 30 Minutes late. Actually we leave nearly 50 minutes late. I am concerned. I have a transfer in Amsterdam at 20:10. We land at 19:50. We are at the gate 19:55. The doors open 20:00. I am off to gate D2, at least that is what I heard. I check the monitors. G2. Now Amsterdam is a great airport, large, modern. Very large, but at least it is all linked together with bus links. I start running. Now I am no Brendan Foster the booklets advise 25 minutes to get from where I landed at D16 to G2. A long, Long way. I am also burdened by Christmas and new year excesses, and the lounge at East Midlands. I have my luggage and my lap top (God that is heavy). I am also wearing my large and very warm overcoat along with my suit. On route my name is called, Passenger Chapman for Budapest please report to gate G2. I know I shout to my self. I am bowling people aside down the moving pavements. I see the gate, they see me! I am motioned around the glass paneling, God how much further. I throw my luggage onto the scanner, hand over my ticket. Pass through the scanner myself, Get my boarding pass. I make it to the plane at 20:10. 5 minutes to spare. I am offered a drink but request that I demonstrate the use of the oxygen mask. I am sitting like a puddle of water.
Migrated from Where's Jon The Original Blog in 2000 with Chapo's super migration tool!
Original Publish Date Week 6 - Monday 3/01/00
No comments:
Post a Comment