Have you seen that film, Final Destination? It’s the one where the kids avoid dying, and then spend the rest of the film fighting against their true fate!! That’s us, that is. Ok, ok, so without the grim reaper chasing us down but certainly fate throws us a curve ball once in a while.
On Thursday night we took our normal trip in to Montoro for Lorna’s Sevillana dancing class (she is the pupil). When we got home I remembered we needed to put some oil in the car and as we were leaving early the following morning to take Lorna to the station for her trip back to the UK I put the oil on the bonnet of the car to remind me. We had to leave before 730 am, to get to Cordoba for the 8.50 train.
The following morning at 7.30 we were walking out to the car.
“Shit. I forgot to put the oil in.”
I popped the bonnet and topped up the engine oil. Then, while Lorna opened the gate I crossed my fingers and turned the key (Frank doesn’t normally let us down, but occasionally he can be temperamental). “Yes.” Frank had started. I jumped in, and went to drive through the gate. Suddenly Lorna was waving frantically.
“Wait. Wait! You’ve got a flat tyre!”
“What?” I jumped out, thinking, maybe it just needed a bit of air, which we could do en route to the station. “F~*!” I put my foot on the tyre and it had no air in it what-so-ever. Pancake flat.
Ok. So now what do we do. Lorna’s flight was at 12.10, and the train at 8.50, we were already looking at missing that.
“I’ll change the tyre!” So I set to work (in my going out clothes, I might add) taking the spare off the back, and jacking the car up. I managed to get the nuts off of the wheel that was flat, and then, with a but of jiggling, got the wheel off. “Bloody Hell. I can’t get the spare on,” I said to Lorna. The car wasn’t high enough off of the ground to get the fully inflated spare on. I started to pump at the jack more, but it wouldn’t move. The jack was for a normal car, not a 4×4. By now I was starting to panic.
“Oh man, what are we going to do?” If I had any hair it would be grey by now.
“Maybe we can change the flight to tomorrow?” Lorna suggested. I was due to be giving our friends a lift to the airport the following day, and if worst came to worst Lorna could hitch a lift with us, but it would mean changing an important dentist appointment.
“Why don’t you phone Ray and Nikki, see if they can help?” I said.
Thankfully, Ray and Nikki dropped everything and came flying over and helped me change the tyre by using both their jack, ours and some big rocks. Now we were on a mission. Normally the journey to Malaga airport takes 2 hours 15 minutes, and we were leaving at 9.18. I figured if we could get there by 11.30 at the latest, we might be ok. I had to break a few speed limits, but we arrived at the airport at 11.15. I hope we don’t get any fines through the mail. We left the car in the drop off zone and ran to the Monarch counter.
“Can you put your hand luggage on the scale, please?” said the lady on the desk.
“I’m sorry. On Monarch we only allow 10kg and this is 13kg. Is there a laptop in there by any chance?”
“Yes, why?” We said together.
“Well we allow 10kg plus a laptop. So take the laptop out of the bag and weigh it again. Ok, now it is alright.”
“But what do we do with the laptop now? We don’t have a bag for it.”
“Erm,” started the lady “put it back in the bag!” Bloody Hell! What a pallaver.
“By the way,” I asked. “What time did check in close?”
“In five minutes.” Said the lady behind the counter, completely unaware of the drama to get there on time.
We started to walk towards the security gate and then Lorna said “You’d better go, look someone is looking at the car..”
So I kissed her a quick goodbye, and shouted as I ran towards the car “Have a good trip…”
Why always us?