Mon maison

There is something to be said for being in one's own humble abode.

I know that I have thread bare carpets, pale aqua walls, okra coloured lino for a kitchen floor, draughty windows and no shower.

But I have never been so thankful to be home, ever.

Last Wednesday 14th April, we were on flight BA296 leaving Chicago at 8.10pm, which we did.

But it left 2 hours late due to the crew being broken down on the motorway.

Eventually we took off and my daughter went to sleep.

But then 2 hours into the journey, the pilot pipes in....."some of you may have noticed that the plane has turned around and is now facing back to Chicago. This is due to massive volcanic disruption from Iceland".

I began to quietly cry.

It suddenly felt like my future plan was being threatened.

We were given coupons for a night in a hotel and food and told to come back the next day.

We landed back in Chicago and had to go collect our luggage. We then went to our respective hotels and slept.

Oh what a night.

The next morning was not much better.

We all re-queued at 1.30pm to check back in to get back on the same plane that we had been on the night before.

Unfortunately as we found out, the ash cloud was too big and too dangerous.

All those who were starting their journeys were told to go home and rebook at a much later date.

Those of us who needed to get home, were told to rebook asap.

So I rang my cousin who very graciously came and got us.....again.

Thursday night we slept at her house and then I gave my daughter back to her father.

I was feeling very fragile.

What if I didn't get back in time for my interviews.

What if I didn't get back in time for my exams.

Too many what ifs...

Friday morning, I sat on the phone and spoke to a local BA office and was rebooked for Wednesday 21st April.

I'm not much for praying or fingers crossed, but I spent the next 5 days holding my breath.

On Tuesday, I received a text telling me the flight was canceled. Shit (excuse my language).

Back on the phone and told to go to BA.com.

Logged on and put in my reference number and it told me my flight was still on schedule.

The news reports were saying that UK airspace was all set to reopen.

Not yet daring to breath, I checked the website probably every 1/2 hour.

It was a nightmare not knowing.

Finally I went to bed Tuesday night, hopeful.

I picked up my daughter on Wednesday, had lunch and my fabulous cousin took us back to the airport.

I had been told to be back at the airport 5 hours early.

Now that was going to make for a fun day out with a 6 year old.

NOT!

Standing in the queue, I recognised one of the BA ground staff from the previous week.

I asked him if I was in the right queue and that I'd been on the 'up/down' flight on 14th.

There was a look of recognition in his face.

5 minutes later, he beckoned us over to the front of the line.

Unbelievably, we were being put onto an earlier flight home. Yes, home.

And they gave us a window seat, which meant that my child could sleep and only kick me.

They took all our bags, even though I was one over the limit.

They were friendly, efficient and did the best that they could do, with their somewhat limited resources.

We had a couple of hours to kill and went in search of a Starbucks (need to feed my addiction).

Task accomplished, we went back to Terminal 5 to look for somewhere to sit.

Happily we came across a fabulous couple that we had befriended the first time around.

My daughter was so pleased.

Time passed and we went through the customs to the gate.

As it turned out, we were flying on the same plane that we had last week and the same crew

It took off 10 minutes late, but it took off.

Deep sigh of relief.

2 hours into the trip and we were still flying.

3 hours went by and finally the crew began to prepare for descent.

Landing was smooth and there was an audible, collective sigh of relief when we pulled into the gate at Heathrow.

Oh joy, almost home.

And to add to that joy, our luggage was not the last out.

I'd already spoken to my mum and knew she was waiting just the other side of customs, with a taxi.

Seeing her, I became tearful again.

The relief was palpable.

I am so happy to be sitting at home on my old couch, watching my very old telly, about to get into my nice clean bath.

I can only hope that all the 'stranded' people get home safely.

"May a fair wind fill your sails."