Yamoose!

Myself and Mrs Bucko are currently on holiday in Corfu, so blogging will be non-existant for the next week and a half, unless I put something up about how hot it is, how red I am or how much I had to drink last night

 

So you heard about alll the commotion going on at Manchester airport, with the massive queues and the angry chavs missing their flights? Kids Christmas ruined and compo faces akimbo?

 

Well it's realy nothing to worry about. That is, if you're flying at 15:00 from terminal 3, it's nothing to worry about. I can't speak from experience for any other time or terminal

 

We'd been advised to turn up four or even five hours before the flight, but also told that people turning up too early were adding to the chaos. We decided to stick to the official advice and arrive three hours early.

We also added an extra hour on to our drive time as it was Thursday, a once in a lifetime bank holiday.

 

As it turned out, the traffic was lighter than normal and we didn't need the extra hour, so we were four hours early to the airport

We queued up at the Ryanair (Ugh!) check-in and 45 minutes later, we had bags checked and were outside again smoking a fag

 

I spoke to a guy on security about their waiting times and he advised to go to security at least an hour and fifteen minutes before out flight

 

We had to toss up between going through security hideously early in the only terminal where you can't smoke after security, but can have a beer, or sit for two hours outside the terminal doing nothing but smoking fags. In the end we decided to go through security and get a beer

Another 45 minutes later and we were through security and in the bar. And looking at the longest queue I've ever seen in my life, not just the airport. Two guys having a pint told us it took them an hour and fifteen minutes to get served. We looked for another option, but there was none, so I joined the queue

It's no wonder it was taking so long to deal with the queue, there were only two staff on the bar. One of them kept wandering off and the other was a huge land whale who only moved at one pace, which was bordering on stopping and falling asleep

I was about fifteen minutes from the end of the queue when a young lad approached me and offered to buy my drink if I ordered his at the same time. I explained I was buying four pints and he readily agreed to pay for all of them if I ordered six pints for him and his mates

I went to the bar, ordered ten pints and then shouted, "Here yar mate, will you give us a lift taking these back?", so it didn't look like he was jumping the queue. I took my four and left him to take his six and sort the bill. Saved me a furtune at those prices and saved him an hour in the queue

Anyhoo, the plane was delayed for fifty minutes after we taxied, but it was clear skies and plain sailing after that. Ryanair (Ugh!) even did their job pretty well and we had a pleasant flight

According to Greek law, you still have to wear a facemask on public transport, and according to Ryanair law, you have to wear one on the plane if that is the law in the destanation country. There were multiple announcements before we took off, about the requirement to wear a mask over your nose and moth for the whole flight and about being kicked off mid-air if you don't. I only noticed about four people who did wear a mask and the cabin staff did not beother anyone about it, which was nice

We have a rule when we arrive on holiday. One waits for the cases and the other goes outside the airport for a smoke. We got to the carousel and I reminded Mrs Bucko that it was her turn to go out. She said there was no point as our cases were already here. It took less time to get off the plane and out of the airport than it did to get a pint in Manchester

Ten O'Clock we were in a taxi, almost there when we spotted two friends who live in Corfu, sat in a bar at the end of the road, so we quickly dumped our cases and walked down to have a quick pint with them. I thought Mrs B had told them we were coming, but she hadn't, so it was a total surprise and a quick pint became very messy. I don't know what time we got back to the apartment, but I was rough as arseholes in the morning

I was so hungover, I couldn't stay in bed, but wasn't fit to put the kettle on or even open the fridge, so I just went to the bar and sat with Kostas, our host, while he served me a long diet of water, coffee, juice and local gossip

By the time I was compus enough to function in polite society, I asked him for the bill, but he let me off all of it as, in his words, it was, "An emergency situation". You gotta love the Greeks. They can be the friendliest people on Earth once you scratch the surface

I also made another schoolboy error the following day. Factor 6 suncream in 36 degree heat while I still had nothing but my English winter tan. Fortunately it wasn't as bad as blistering, but it's been quite painful to wear a shirt for a few days and also to have a shower, so my personal hygiene has been questionable to say the least. When it's this hot, washing yourself in the sink just doesn't cut it

Well it's day six now. The hangover is a distant memory, the skin has healed to a manageable and more importantly, showerable extent, my Corfu arse is in full effect and I'm in that perfect holiday mood where it's just so hard to care about anything and I can't remember a time when I was ever cold

So if anything interesting happens, I might let you know, but it's not looking likely. Until then, TTFN