Yes I am blonde - Travel trauma's part 2

If the truth be told when I wrote the last post on my travel trauma's I truly didn't intend for there to actually be a part 2 but here I am writing once again of my total inadequacy as a lone traveller.

So on Wednesday I was flying to Cologne to go to the large nursery trade show there. I've been a specialist nursery PR for the last nine years but I have always managed to get out of going over to the show as the flights are rubbish.

My quip to my clients is totally true... I work for myself so that I can be at home for my children and not away for days at trade events.

OK, so things haven't really worked out like that this year and I've been away more than I have ever before. This Cologne, however - there was no getting out of it. So I booked my flights, one of my clients sorted out my hotel (thanks G, you are a star and looking mighty fine with that big baby bump too..).

Tuesday night came and Yan dutifully booked my meet and greet parking at the airport. I was packed and ready to go.

Wednesday morning arrived. I took the kids to school and drove straight to the airport giving myself plenty of time to before they flight.

On arrival at the airport I handed my car over to the nice man and went into the terminal. I had a good look at the board but there were not flights to Cologne - or even Germany for that matter listed at all.

I took out my paper work and guess what????

I was at the wrong airport! My flight was leaving from East Mids and here I was car less and about 35 miles away in Birmingham...

I called the parking people back, who were by the way totally fantastic (NCP if you are interested). They brought my car straight back to me, without so much as a snigger from the driver. They also issued a full refund to my card and they were total stars!

I jumped into the car and they opened the car park barriers without me having to ask - thought I can only imagine how they were laughing in their office.

Luckily its was just a case of me jumping onto the M42 and getting to Easy Mids as quickly as I could.

As I arrived a check in a guy joined the queue behind me.

He asked me if I was going to the show in Cologne and I told him that I was. He then asked me if I would check in one of his bags for him as he was going to be over the weight limit.

Was he serious? With the morning that I was having! I could almost hear the tick tock coming from inside his case!! Which with all probability was my own heart that was still threatening to stop at any minute from my self inflicted blonde adrenalin surge!

I only have baby clothes in there he assured me. Ummm, well with all honesty I would say that too if I was about to blow up a plane but for once the timing was perfect and I jumped forward to check in leaving the crazy man behind.

Adventure behind me, I am now back at the airport with out any problems waiting for my flight home.

I'll report back to let you all know that I make it in one piece!

Yes I am blonde - Travel trauma's part 1

It's been whirl-wind of a couple of days. I got up at 3am yesterday catch my flight to Holland.

A very hot and sunny day met me in Amsterdam, my flight was a bit late and I knew that the meeting that I was supposed to be at had already started.

The meeting was at a lovely boutique hotel called Hotel Arena, the meeting was in full flow when I got there breakfast had already finished so I just sat down, grabbed a coffee and got out my mac.

These team meetings are always hard going. The team is based across Holland and the UK, so we don't get together very often and when we do - there is so much to get through.

By the time we broke for lunch I was starving but I still had some finishing touches to put to my presentation and loads of press emails that needed answering.

The afternoon went really quickly and my presentation on how as a brand we should be using social media was really well received - even though most of my colleagues thought that I was talking a foreign language!

By the time the meeting wrapped we only had ten minutes until we were being picked up by cab to go on to our guided walk of the city.

I quickly checked in and dropped off my bag. The hotel room was stunning. Set out over two floors, with bathroom and study downstairs and a spiral staircase leading up to the bed room. Two large flat screen TV's and full wireless access.

I was gutted that (1), my hubby wasn't here and (2), that all I had time to do was dump my bag and run.

The idea of the tour was great - as we usually fly in to wherever. Have our meeting and then leave without actually seeing outside of the hotel. But in reality, most of us had been up since 3am and I hadn't eaten a thing.

When we sat down to dinner it was 8pm and by the time we got back to our hotel it was 12.30am. It was in the taxi back that we heard about poor Michael Jackson.

I ordered a room call for 3am to get back to the airport, giving me enough time to make my 7am flight home.

I was so tired when I got up. It was quite possible that I had just a little too much wine last night and I really could have done with a full twelve hours sleep. I shared a taxi with one of the guys, who didn't look any better than me.

It was at this point that I realised that I had been looking my flight times to Norway - and not home from Holland. My flight wasn't till 9.40am!

What an idiot - I could have had a decent sleep and I felt really rough. Who ever said that PR was glam?

When my flight was finally called I got up to make my way to the gate. I went around the corner, following the signs for gate H.

Next sign: Gate H - walking time 45minutes. I looked at my watch. It was 9.15am.

What a nightmare. I had been at the airport for five hours and now I was looking at missing my plane. Around the next corner was another passport control. I had already been through one but this one was heaving, there must have been at least a couple of hundred people waiting. At this point panic started to set in! I pushed to the front of the queue making excuses for being so rubbish and got through quite quickly.

Next sign: Gate H 30 minute walk. Time to takeoff 15 mins.....

What makes it even worse is that I have a problem with my legs. I broke both of them badly a number of years ago. One of them is fused at the ankle and I can't run and they were killing me. Coupled with the fact that I had been made to walk around Amsterdam for two hours and I hadn't had any sleep. it wasn't looking good.

I was moving as fast as I could - then there was another security check.......

Laptop out, jacket off, liquids out. Laptop away, jacket in bag (by this time I was more than a tad hot).

Next sign: Gate H 15 minutes. Take off 5 mins.....

I got to the gate bang on 9.40am, and then I had a huge flight of stairs to get down. All I could hear was can passenger.. please come to Gate H - you are holding up the plane. No shit.....

They were just about to pull the steps but I had made it. The whole plane full of people were staring at me and shaking their heads.

I can't believe how big that airport is! There is no way on earth that we would have made it if we had been with the children. So please take note: If you are traveling from Amsterdam back to the UK - give yourself an hour to get to the gate!

All in all it was a totally blonde day. Lets hope that Sunday's trip to HQ in Norway goes a little better.