After returning the car, which was actually a reverse of the process we followed when we collected it, we made our way to the check-in counter, only to discover a queue a mile long. We knew we were in for another nightmare journey, when the check-in staff member hadn’t heard of Gibraltar and had no idea where it was. Then, since we were prohibited from checking in online, we ended up with seats apart from each other; never a good thing for Elaine to be sitting between two strangers and prayed neither were coughing and spluttering.
After walking a country mile to get to our gate, an announcement was made, just as we got there, about a gate change. So, off we trotted again, walking another country mile to the new gate, only to discover there wasn’t a plane in sight. The delayed departure, however, gave us time to get a takeaway bite to eat and a bottle of water so that Elaine could, at least, take her morning tablets. Unbeknownst to us at the time, that turned out to be our last meal of the day!
After a plane eventually arrived at the gate, we were confident we’d make our connection with plenty of time to spare. Once boarded, the Captain announced that the delay was related to the aircraft having spent the night in the hangar and had to be delivered to the newly assigned gate, but that we were all ready for push back just as soon as they start the first engine. Well, you guessed it, the engine wouldn’t start, following which a three hour odyssey ensued.
Once the maintenance department got the engine started, an hour or so later, we had missed our Air Traffic Control departure slot. Not only was the next slot hours away; set for 1015, we weren’t permitted to sit at the gate, since this was assigned to another aircraft. In the interim, the electricity supply to the aircraft “dropped out”, which required rectification, before we could be pushed back from the gate at around 0930. By this stage Elaine wanted off this aircraft, but Roy’s humour had her in stitches after sending her a text message indicating: “It’s a short swim and we have our EPIRB with us”. The latter was in our checked luggage after being serviced and having the battery replaced.
After another 35 minutes of taxiing to a secluded “parking spot”, where we sat for another while, not a single drink of water or a smidgen of food was provided in all this time. Eventually at around 1030, three hours after our scheduled departure time of 0730, confined to the plane and not permitted to leave our seats under any circumstances, not even to use the toilets, because the aircraft was considered to be moving, we eventually took off. We’d been up since 0500 to keep our end of the bargain to be on time and Aer Lingus couldn’t even provide an aircraft that was actually in working order, never mind the numerous procedures that were broken in keeping us confined to the aircraft without food, water or toilet breaks for three hours before takeoff, that in addition to the duration of the flight, because no refreshments whatsoever were served during the flight either.
At one point the crew started blaming passengers for “moving around the aircraft and causing delays” because children had to be taken to the toilet. It was at this point that Roy’s humour resurfaced: “So that’s why the engine won’t start, bum sensors in the seats.”
Thankfully our connecting British Airways flight was delayed too, but, by the time we disembarked the Aer Lingus flight, we only had thirty minutes to change terminals, get through passport control and security, fifteen minutes of which was used on the terminal transfer alone. Then finding a single passport controller, who was having a chinwag with every passenger when the queue was a mile long and the security officer insisting on Roy giving her a “pinky promise” that he didn’t have any liquids, a tablet or a laptop in his bag, was indeed the last straw. I honestly thought someone was going to suffer bodily harm and it wasn’t either of us.
With minutes to spare and still no opportunity to get anything to eat or drink or go to the toilet, we were all corralled into a holding area before boarding, without access to food, water or a toilet and where we sat for a further delay. By the time we were boarded and took off, Elaine was about to burst and jumped up when the aircraft was still ascending, “running” as fast as her legs would carry her to the toilet. The cabin crew were so stunned they didn’t say a word and that was, indeed, in their best interest snd safety!
Although our last few trips utilising British Airways have been a terrible experience in ever which way, we have never experienced such a fiasco and received such appalling treatment. Of course, when we eventually arrived in Gibraltar around 1700, our luggage did not, luggage containing all our parts and spares. At this point we gave up, got the bus back to the marina, dropped off our hand luggage on Paw Paw and headed to the nearest restaurant for a drink and a meal; The Lounge on the waterfront.
Needless to say this is the absolute last time we will fly through London and use British Airways or any of its partner airlines again. We’d sooner fly with any other carrier through anywhere else, even on an unmodified 737 Max 8!
Our day ended with a nice long chat to Keenan and some house-hunting online, now that we have an idea of the areas we would like to live in Ireland.
Trying to set all this aside, Elaine completely forgot it was her methotrexate day and had no idea where she was when her alarm sounded at 0400 this morning. When she eventually realised what was going on, she scrambled to get her tablets, waited the obligatory time for them to be digested and went straight back to sleep, waking later to find Roy giving the decks a cursory rinse; Paw Paw was covered in ash from a fire that had occurred in Alcaidesa Marina on the Spanish side of the Iberian Peninsula while we were away. Once that was done, he backwashed the watermaker.
After breakfast it was all hands on deck to get through the last of our To Dos before departure. Getting our luggage was crucial, however, and we were delighted to receive an email indicating our bags had been found and were at the airport in Gibraltar. The corker in this case, though, was that they would not deliver them and that we had to collect them PROMPTLY before 1400! What audacity when there was absolutely nothing prompt about their service to begin with!
Anyway, while Roy set off in search of our FedEx package containing our engine spares from the US and to collect our luggage, Elaine washed (aka scrubbed) Paw Paw’s decks, cockpit and helmstation, after Roy had removed the initial grime from the fire. Her efforts were interrupted, though, when the riggers arrived to inspect the rigging after we had it replaced in Türkiye. It’s fair to say, Elaine was definitely relieved to hear that they had nothing to report, that the company in Türkiye knew what they were doing and had done an excellent job. Aside from tuning it again, everything was in perfect order. At last some good news!
A second bit of good news was that the second pair of Elaine’s prescription glasses, which we had to reorder after FedEx lost the first pair, arrived at Elaine’s sister’s apartment and our Yellowbrick tracker had miraculously been found by UPS. Guess a claim of £700 was enough motivation to find it! Let’s hope both items are now actually delivered to Justine and Paul, so they can bring them out to the Canary Islands when they join us in a few weeks.
Roy, however, was convinced he’d entered the twilight zone when he collected our parcel at FedEx, after he was informed he couldn’t replace or use the parts while in Gibraltar unless he pays the duty, although it was for a Yacht-In-Transit. When Roy informed this particular bright spark that we wouldn’t be leaving Gibraltar then and would be here for good, because the parts were, in fact, engine parts, a response of: “oh right, ok then - guess you’ll have to use them”. Staring at this individual in total disbelief, Roy simply took the parcel and walked out! We’d never heard anything so ludicrous in all our years of sailing!
Back onboard, Roy dropped off everything and took a walk to Morrison’s to get a few provisions to tide us over. On his return, we returned all the cockpit cushions to the cockpit, then, while Elaine went for a nap, Roy replaced the broken latch on the fridge and started the task of replacing the engine control panels. When she surfaced, Elaine was delighted to find that she didn’t have to step over the broomstick that had been wedged against the fridge door to keep it closed after the latch snapped off one morning while crossing the Mediterranean Sea and something we constantly tripped over.
Next tasks included sorting out all the dirty laundry and unpacking the duffle bags, obtaining a reservation at the Tangiers Marina, continuing the process of opening a bank account in Ireland, the latter after an initial phone call was made while we were in Ireland, reactivating our Iridium-Go service, which became another fiasco and a story for another day and, finally, reactivating our Immarsat service.
By the time dinner rolled around and we had wrapped up our day, it was long past 2200. Exhausted we flopped into our beds.
We do, however, have our opinions and views on the reason for these continuing fiascos and the incompetence we’ve dealt with of late, from FedEx, to UPS, to British Airways, to clueless airport staff, who sit with their noses in their smartphones or who are completely oblivious of efficiencies required; the people who were competent and knew what they were doing have all retired or died off from COVID-19 and we’re left with the idiots running the show. Granted there are exceptions, but, in our experience, nothing works as it used to or should do, never mind the ridiculous costs associated with these inept services. We’ve never experienced anything like it in our lives before! What we know for certain, though, is that returning to landlubber life is going to be brutal!
