It has been very difficult to put a positive spin on this. I
was expecting to be in Greece at this time but I’m not. I did all the typical
things one does prior to heading off to the sun. Most of all I got really excited
about a holiday with Diane in Greece. Now, I am back home feeling really sorry
for myself. I have spoilt Diane’s trip. I am full of doubt about my competence.
I just don’t feel happy. Ezra-Mae has noticed it, and she has tried to cheer me
up. Nothing works. I just feel shitty.
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What to do when you can't travel. Thank you Sophie |
All started well. Diane and I set off for Gatwick. So far so
good. We headed for the gate. Gate 112. Then we were told it was now gate 113.
No probs. We queued; showed our boarding passes and were told it was the wrong
plane. Ours was halfway across the airport at gate 55. We legged it along with
five others. We got there and the gate had closed. We argued but it looked like
only the two people who had luggage loaded in the hold would be allowed to
board. In the end it was just me they wouldn’t allow to travel.
The worst thing happened. I still can’t quite believe it; my
passport was out of date. I expires in June BUT it was 10 years and 3 weeks
old. New BREXIT rules… You can only travel to the EU within 10 years of the
issue date. Diane left. I got escorted out of the airport like a criminal along
with six others from different flights.
The next day I applied for a new passport. I had to put the
expiry date of the old one on the form. 17th June, 2025. Putting
that date really galled. I could have travelled to Asia and I would have been
fine. Bloody BREXIT. Having looked into this, I found that 2.4m Brits had been
caught by this rule before March 2022. That is a lot of disappointed people.
Currently I am living vicariously through Diane’s photos and
catching up with her on face time. I am missing a wonderful experience. I think
she is missing me. Meanwhile, back at the ranch, I have collected Sally
Sourdough starter from Nasser’s house – her holiday home. Sally is my highly
excitable, bubbly companion that makes tasty bread. She exploded on one
occasion, so I asked Nasser to be nice to her and make her welcome.
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Sally does her best. |
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My bubble friend after a short sojourn |
There is something about a “starter” that makes me feel it
is a companion more than a food source. I told Ezra-Mae I had Sally living with
me. When I showed her, she was adamant that it wasn’t a person. She now has her
own “starter”, Peppa Dough. I wonder where that name came from? Danielle looked
on the internet for possible names: Bread Pitt, Brigit Bar-Dough, and Ringo
Starter were among the celebrity sobriquets mentioned.
So, along with more than 2.4m failed British travellers and
those who elevate their sourdough starters to a high status of being, I feel
slightly more normal. It hasn’t stopped the sadness I feel of a failed get-away
though. What to do?