So, while Barbara was gently moving south into warmer climes, through the exciting Bay of Biscay, I was stuck back at home in very sub-zero temperatures trying to keep warm and find healthy food in the freezer.
The first thing I did once at home again was to research flights to Madeira. TAP, Air Portugal, had a very reasonable offering of a flight to Lisbon connecting with a second flight to Madeira. The 08:15 flight from Heathrow sounded civilised, but, the arrival time in Madeira didn't leave much room for delays. So I opted for the uncomfortably early 06:00 flight on Saturday which, with a nominal two hour earlier check in, would require a very early start.
Aurian very kindly agreed to pick me up from Fairford on the Friday night, feed me and provide a bed for a short while, before taking me to Heathrow at 03:00 in the morning. As arranged, Aurian collected me and cooked a lovely Toad-in-the-Hole for dinner while I socialised with Marina and Misty (i.e. got eaten alive, or at least nearly licked to death).
At 3 am prompt, we set off and got to Terminal-2 90 minutes before the flight was due to leave. As it was, that was far more generous than necessary, 30 minutes would have been enough. But it left time to appreciate the décor.
It was still dark as we thundered down the runway and left the lights of west London twinkling through the low cloud, which we entered just a few hundred feet above the ground.
Climbing through the cloud, it got a bit lighter, but it would be a while before sunrise over western France.
Soon enough, we were descending over the Portuguese coast with views of extensive wind farms; Portugal would seem to be quite green with its energy generation. My first visit to Lisbon, or anywhere in Portugal for that matter, wasn't especially inspiring as the insides of airports are not the most cultural of places. They tend to be fairly similar the world over.
After an hour's wait, plus a bit because the flight crew had been delayed getting to Lisbon from Paris, we were allowed aboard a similar medium size jet.
Then the exciting bit, accelerating to 150 mph or so in a very few seconds, before climbing into the clear blue skies 39,000 feet over the Atlantic. Then the mountains of Madeira appeared, sticking up through the clouds.
The delay in the flight times meant that we just missed one of the Aerobus services into Funchal after landing at Madeira airport, and it was over an hour until the next one. Having only enough Euros for the bus fare, there was no option to take a taxi, so I waited over an hour until the next one. It arrived at last and we sped off through the mountainous terrain of southern Madeira.
By now, it was early afternoon, and although earlier in the day I'd seen on a ship tracking website exactly where Black Watch was moored in the port, I didn't know when it was leaving or how long it would take to get aboard. It was great relief that I spotted her, exactly where the ship tracker said she'd be, as we descended the steep hills into the centre of Funchal.
Alighting near the harbour, it was a very short walk to the security gates where I produced my ticket and, most importantly, my PASSPORT!
Not so simple as I expected though. Portuguese security seemed to have decided that I looked a bit suspicious and put me in some sort of official mini-bus to be whisked around to the other side of the harbour to be checked. Formalities over, I was whisked back again and allowed through to the ship at last.
'Ah, Mr Lyne' they said at the top of the gangplank, 'your wife's expecting you'. I'd hoped that they were as well. Just as they were taking my likeness, for security I presumed, a familiar voice called behind me on the gangplank.
Barbara was very relieved to see me again at last. She'd been unable to log on and get any of the many emails I'd sent explaining exactly when and where I'd (hopefully) arrive. So she had no idea whether I'd been able to book flights or not, and had visions of a lonely and potentially rough Atlantic crossing to Barbados. The Bay of Biscay had been a bit uncomfortable apparently, and she wasn't looking forward to any more bad seas on her own.
But all was well and we were reunited again. By then it was mid-afternoon and we'd have liked to have gone back into Funchal together, the ship, I then discovered, was due to sail at 4pm, less than an hour away; nothing like the 'late pm' quoted in the official itinerary. No time for any more shopping then, or in my case, seeing anything of Funchal.
Phew though, had I taken the later flights, I'd have arrived in Funchal just in time to see Black Watch steaming away.
The first thing I did once at home again was to research flights to Madeira. TAP, Air Portugal, had a very reasonable offering of a flight to Lisbon connecting with a second flight to Madeira. The 08:15 flight from Heathrow sounded civilised, but, the arrival time in Madeira didn't leave much room for delays. So I opted for the uncomfortably early 06:00 flight on Saturday which, with a nominal two hour earlier check in, would require a very early start.
Aurian very kindly agreed to pick me up from Fairford on the Friday night, feed me and provide a bed for a short while, before taking me to Heathrow at 03:00 in the morning. As arranged, Aurian collected me and cooked a lovely Toad-in-the-Hole for dinner while I socialised with Marina and Misty (i.e. got eaten alive, or at least nearly licked to death).
At 3 am prompt, we set off and got to Terminal-2 90 minutes before the flight was due to leave. As it was, that was far more generous than necessary, 30 minutes would have been enough. But it left time to appreciate the décor.
It was still dark as we thundered down the runway and left the lights of west London twinkling through the low cloud, which we entered just a few hundred feet above the ground.
Climbing through the cloud, it got a bit lighter, but it would be a while before sunrise over western France.
Soon enough, we were descending over the Portuguese coast with views of extensive wind farms; Portugal would seem to be quite green with its energy generation. My first visit to Lisbon, or anywhere in Portugal for that matter, wasn't especially inspiring as the insides of airports are not the most cultural of places. They tend to be fairly similar the world over.
After an hour's wait, plus a bit because the flight crew had been delayed getting to Lisbon from Paris, we were allowed aboard a similar medium size jet.
Then the exciting bit, accelerating to 150 mph or so in a very few seconds, before climbing into the clear blue skies 39,000 feet over the Atlantic. Then the mountains of Madeira appeared, sticking up through the clouds.
The delay in the flight times meant that we just missed one of the Aerobus services into Funchal after landing at Madeira airport, and it was over an hour until the next one. Having only enough Euros for the bus fare, there was no option to take a taxi, so I waited over an hour until the next one. It arrived at last and we sped off through the mountainous terrain of southern Madeira.
By now, it was early afternoon, and although earlier in the day I'd seen on a ship tracking website exactly where Black Watch was moored in the port, I didn't know when it was leaving or how long it would take to get aboard. It was great relief that I spotted her, exactly where the ship tracker said she'd be, as we descended the steep hills into the centre of Funchal.
Alighting near the harbour, it was a very short walk to the security gates where I produced my ticket and, most importantly, my PASSPORT!
Not so simple as I expected though. Portuguese security seemed to have decided that I looked a bit suspicious and put me in some sort of official mini-bus to be whisked around to the other side of the harbour to be checked. Formalities over, I was whisked back again and allowed through to the ship at last.
'Ah, Mr Lyne' they said at the top of the gangplank, 'your wife's expecting you'. I'd hoped that they were as well. Just as they were taking my likeness, for security I presumed, a familiar voice called behind me on the gangplank.
Barbara was very relieved to see me again at last. She'd been unable to log on and get any of the many emails I'd sent explaining exactly when and where I'd (hopefully) arrive. So she had no idea whether I'd been able to book flights or not, and had visions of a lonely and potentially rough Atlantic crossing to Barbados. The Bay of Biscay had been a bit uncomfortable apparently, and she wasn't looking forward to any more bad seas on her own.
But all was well and we were reunited again. By then it was mid-afternoon and we'd have liked to have gone back into Funchal together, the ship, I then discovered, was due to sail at 4pm, less than an hour away; nothing like the 'late pm' quoted in the official itinerary. No time for any more shopping then, or in my case, seeing anything of Funchal.
Phew though, had I taken the later flights, I'd have arrived in Funchal just in time to see Black Watch steaming away.
No comments:
Post a Comment