Well hello dear reader. I’ve not done one of these for absolutely ages. So join me if you will on the highlights and err highlights of this years sojourn to…

Where to begin? Well. Notwithstanding the breeze through the newly glamorous Bristol Airport (chauffeured by Pamela no less) and the associated £178.14 on a thimble of coffee and saucisson bap at Starbucks…

…let us, dear reader, pick up on plane to TFS.

I suspect the graphics team at TUI is having a laugh when designing the safety card.

Pay close attention to the following…

What happened to BRACE, BRACE ? What’s this nonsense with Heads Down, Heads Down?

But in a lighter vein…

…meet our brave passenger hero - who, having initially decided her over wing emergency exit is NOT a safe exit, stands like the opening dance position to Girls Aloud Spice Up Your Life. And after some further consideration, somehow jauntily sat, legs crossed sans seatbelt, decides we CAN use the exit. However it seems important that when leaving urgently, in a life or death situation, we should take a moment to do a tiny slinky hip raise like we’re walking for Prada at Milan Fashion Week.

And as for the demure cabin crew, legs together bending from the knee, I could take lessons from her when they put me on Food at M&S filling the bottom shelf. I’m very much squat to haunches. Not quite so glamorous.

Lolz aside. We now move on to the absolute shit show that was TFS immigration.

Stood on bus OUTSIDE the terminal doors having deplaned. 15 mins.

Advanced off the bus to OUTDOOR holding pen, replete with Alton Towers style tensinator pole queuing. 30 minutes. Only our destination wasn’t the log flume.

Now enter the building proper. More queues. Now we have to do the new EES machinery to make sure we’re not staying longer than 90 days. Finger prints etc. Approx half the terminals aren’t working. Next it’s biometric entry gates. Cue me, without glasses, peering vaguely in the direction of the camera like it’s a Henry Moore (nod to Fiona) Gates open. I’m free. Oh no. Not yet. Scary border security has to stamp my passport. 45 minutes.

Bag collection. I’ve been so long doing admins the belt info boards are all on to the next flights. Luckily I spot a shared belt halfway down the hall and yesssssss. Bristol (and Vilnius). Seems my bag’s been merrily circling for gawd knows how long.

All in all just over two hours. I’ve been through Miami, Sydney, Beijing and Maçau quicker

Here’s to the 51%. Nobbers.

The torment isn’t over yet. 30 minute wait for bus (Titsa -name of company - lolz) then a 45 min journey or over an hour for a cab. Decided bus. Thrift being my watchword. Who am i kidding? No cab queue? - I’d have been in a Peugeot Boxer faster than you can say ‘pagar con tarjeter?’

But at the end of the day I’ve arrived! And that’s the main thing.