Escape To Spain

Watching the minutes tick away is BORING…

5 left to go… close down computer programs (that I’ve only been staring at for the last 10 mins anyway)

3 left to go… turn off computer (I’m practiced at this sequence to know how long it takes)

2 left to go… put papers to one side & pull on jumper (basically just move stuff randomly around desk)

1 left to go… hook bag over shoulder (pre packed covertly during the last 15 mins of the day)

GO GO GO ! ! ! ! !

On the dot I’m out the door. Free to enjoy my week off. Free to travel. Free to live how I want to live, unconstrained by dress shirts and meetings. If only for a week, I’m free. Of course, this elation at being free only because I have chosen to constrain my life at work in the first place. I have committed to a job and they are paying for me to be responsible for fulfilling the role. However the job supports my life, and once my contracted hours are done, my life in mine to live. I’m consistently shocked by how much overtime people do to the detriment of their home lives. They are proud of their jobs and love doing them so it may not feel like work, but you have to ask yourself; why you are there to start with? It is to pay for doing things outside of work. My passion is travel, so to Spain we go!

Literally springing out the door, I throw my bag on the motorbike and zoom off towards Milton Keynes. Out of Banbury there is only major road over the motorway and this gets highly congested on a Friday as people jostle to escape, as I am. By far the fastest, and therefore best, way to travel right now, is by motorbike. I slip past all the other workers heading home and in half the time it will take them, I’m flying along the country roads. I get to Milton Keynes as my bro is finishing work. Dump the bike and climb into his car. Now we have to join the masses leaving work except we are off to Luton Airport. It doesn’t take too long and I arrive with plenty of time to catch my flight.

I had booked budget flights at a great bargain. Except when I went to book the hire car, I realised I had made a massive error! For some reason the dates were in December and I’m flying in September. I am dead sure I booked the right dates on the website. I’m very good at checking dates and travel times and planning where I have to be when I have to be there, so I was shocked that I had booked something 3 months ahead of when I actually wanted to travel. Cancelling the flights would have lost me the money. Changing the booking would cost the same as booking new flights, so they have just been sacrificed and new ones booked…. I’m sure I got it right though… it’s a conspiracy… they must have changed them, mustn’t they have?… anyway…

Its only 2 and a bit hours to Spain so I don’t mind being treated like a battery chicken. I’m on my own in the departure lounge, which is a grandeur title for effectively a high priced, high pressure, high street. I sit on the floor, because there is no space and watch the other cocks fluff their feathers impatiently. They insist on clucking to their hens about literally nothing of importance. When we get to the gate, we are herded forwards and processed one by one. A slow processional strut towards the aluminium can raises tensions and heads are flicking left and right for any sign of delay. At last we are stationed in our seats. As the plane fills up slowly its obvious that this will be a full flight. Except, my row is empty. By some stroke of luck, I have a whole row of three seats too myself! It must be Karma paying me back for the sacrificed tickets.

The flight took off at 1950 so I didn’t arrive till well past 23:00. I then had to pick up my hire car and drive north for 2 hours to Valencia. I was lucky to be staying with a friend up there for a couple days. They weren’t best please about how late I was getting there. I was dead on my feet when I finally arrived but the adrenalin of travelling that far, being in Spain and on holiday had kept me going.