I managed to leave home this morning all packed and organised for my trip to Scotland.

It was all going so well.

A friend took me to Ferrandina where the airport bus was on time and arrived at the airport just after 8am.

I had a few hours to wait but a coffee and my kindle kept me going.

Going through security was no problem .

My stomach was not quite behaving as normal, but I often feel a bit off when travelling.

The plane was on time and I sat down in my usual seat ,an aisle one near the back.

I put my mask on , though most people were not wearing masks and I don’t know what the problem was ,but I felt really sick. I took it off again and after a few minutes I felt nearly okay.

For the next hour I felt nearly okay as the plane sat there and a mechanic or whatever went in and out looking at the wing.

I know this from listening to the children in the seat in front who never stopped asking questions of their mother who did her best to answer politely.

At the end of the hour, the captain announced..” we have some bad news. The plane is broken and needs a new part. We don’t know how long it will take to fix and what we will do so you will all need to get off again.” These were not his exact words.

It took about 20 mins and then we were out in the fresh air briefly before being stuck in the lounge after the passport control.

That was when we were told that the flight would now leave at 6.30pm. It was about 1pm by then.

I was still feeling not quite okay.

By 2.30pm I just wanted to go home. I couldn’t face waiting hours, feeling sick and then go on a flight of more than 3 hours where I would be tired as well as possibly feeling worse.

I felt a bit cowardly to be honest, but when a very nice helpful Ryanair guy in the office offered to change my dates so that I could go next week I weakly said, ” yes please.”

I hurried outside and caught the bus to the railway station, Bari Centrale and then headed for the other private railway which goes to Matera.

It seemed to take forever to get to Matera as the train kept stopping and I nearly got on the wrong one when I had to change at Altamura.

A heroic friend who was visiting Matera had offered to take me home for which I will be eternally grateful.

There may or may not have been a bus to somewhere near Pisticci from Matera , but it was ten times more pleasant to sit in the front seat( I don’t think I could have survived the back seat) of a car and be driven right back to where I started this morning.

And that was my day.

I hope a nuclear war hasn’t started as I was too tired to look at the news and check what was happening in the world before I started to write.

I think it must be bedtime/wine time now.

Cheers 🍷 💤💤💤💤