For days, Jim Minton made slow but determined steps in his attempt to defeat Iceland's most famous export and get back to London from Lagos, where he often works. His regular bulletins entertained fellow subscribers to an e-mail group bringing together a disparate band of football supporters (of Sunderland AFC, not strictly relevant but essential to understanding certain references if, as Salut! believes, his account of the odyssey cried out to be repeated)...
Thursday:
Well, I am stuck in Lagos - probably one of the dustiest cities in the world - because of some nonsense in Iceland. I shall tell mum quite definitely NOT to go there in future. (Iceland, I mean, not Lagos). Any crack (about the football) for Saturday yet, anyone? I hope I am out of this sweltering airport by then, at least!
Saturday
Watched the second half in a very sweaty bar in Lagos, having persuaded the owner to turn over from stoke v bolton at half time.
Thought we were pretty terrible, and allowed burnley back into it - but had obviously done enough to win the game.
Still, the beer was dirt cheap, the people very friendly and the chicken barbeque excellent. It was slightly disconcerting that there were live chickens roaming round the bar, blissfully unaware of their impending fate, but I guess even they must have been tantalised by the delicious smell of their brethren roasting. Reminded me a little of the Restaurant at the End of the Universe, when the cow who has been specially bred to want to be eaten makes his entrance. Except the chickens didn't speak. Well, not to me, anyway.
With apologies for that slight diversion - the long delay and the hot weather must be getting to me.
Still hoping to get a flight tomorrow, but looking increasingly unlikely.
Sunday:
I have just found out my "flight" this evening is - wonder of wonders - still scheduled to leave, though at time unknown.
And instead of Paris it is going to land in Toulouse. I may call in on you for a beer, Colin.)
My temptation is to get it anyway and then jump on the train to Paris and work things out from there. Can see a big argument brewing with Air France, BA (my original ticket), our insurers etc over all ofthis...
Monday evening:
When last you heard, I was hoping to escape the blistering heat of Lagos on Sunday. (Stop reading now if this kind of longwinded account of stuff nothing to do with Sunderland AFC drives you mad - it does me sometimes)
Anyway (in my best Ronnie Corbett at the golf club voice, but without the gags), to my amazement, Åir France kept their promise and flew their plane at midnight Sunday - it was the only one to leave Lagos for western Europe in four days and I think there were no more scheduled until at least Wednesday.
A slight problem was, as they'd threatened, the plane could only get as far as Toulouse where it deposited us at 5am. Worse, the plane was actually half empty: despite all the thousands of people wanting to return to Europe, due to visa restrictions many Nigerians had to cancel their flights as they couldn't go overland through France, and websites and travel agents in their collective panic had been refusing to sell on their tickets. Both sad, and nonsensical - like the whole volcano palaver to be honest.
Toulouse airport was deserted, though there was a camera crew waiting for us - les dustbusters, I fancied they were dubbing us, for the early morning bulletins in midi Pyrennese (Colin, please check -thx).
And it turned out, France is unfortunately as hard to get out of as Lagos. Toulouse station at 6am was rammed with all nationalities trying to get somewhere else. Consequently it was 10am before I could get a train out, heading supposedly for Paris but with a two hour wait in Bordeaux.
Having had people in the UK trying various websites for Eurostar, buses and ferries, and getting no joy, and feeling that jumping on that flight may not have been such a good idea, I decided to take matters into my own hands.
First, I rang my mate in Le Havre and begged him to duck out of work for an hour and go down the docks for me. After some cajoling, he did, and was offered the last seat on a ferry for Wednesday evening.
But like a fool I turned him down, lured by the temptation of something better as I'd had a call saying there may be more Eurostar tickets on Wed morning.
This turned out to be a false alarm, and my ferry ticket was snapped up by someone else so I was then left kicking myself for an hour, stamping in the street like rumpelstiltskin, just waiting in agony for my connecting train to Paris.
My hopes of a Eurostar ticket crumbled to nought, and the prospect of a tramp round the seedier hotels of Paris to find a room was all I had to look forward to.
In despair, with minutes to go until the train was to depart, I popped my head around the door of the Eurolines bus office, to enquire whether there there was any chance of a bus from Bordeaux to London. There was...... But I'd have to wait until the 30th of April!
Amazingly, though, the kindly lady behind the counter looked at me over her glasses and growled seductively, (in French): "But there is one place left on the last bus out of Paris tonight."
I could barely believe it, but whipped out my grubby 50 euros and did the deal.
I took the non stop train to Paris, had a couple of beers in the notably un-ashy sunshine and am now in the bedlam of the check in queue at the Galliéni Gare Routière from where my chariot will at 10pm whisk me to Victoria for sunrise tomorrow.
I pity whoever sits next to me, as I am minging.
Anyway, I sincerely hope nothing can stop me now and that I haven't spoken too soon....
Tuesday morning:
(from Andy Nichol, also following Jim's progress - having had cause in the past to write about his travels - from the comfort of the Blackcats list....):
I just passed a French coach leaving the A2 near Greenwich - no clear sighting of Minton but several passengers appeared in a state of distress. Think he might be on board.
Tuesday afternoon: post shower (or industrial cleansing):
Safely back in Blighty!. All told, I left Lagos at 11pm Sunday, arrived Victoria 4.30 this morning. Reckon 30 hours not bad in the circumstances! Wd be surprised if anyone got from Lagos to the UK more quickly than that over the past few days!!
* With thanks to 37hz for the image of Iceland, from Flickr.
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