Blog Zero – Edinburgh to Catania

Last Year, we had a Blog Zero because of events prior to us even reaching our first port of call – Oporto. This year I thought “Well there’ll be no need for a Blog Zero, because we’ll be really organised and all the preliminaries will go smoothly this time.”

The problems actually started two weekends before we were due to leave on Retirement Trip Number Two. I was sitting at home on the Friday evening, trying to get someone a ticket to see Hibs. This was proving rather difficult, when two texts came through on my phone, cancelling our flights for both legs for our trip out to Catania, Sicily, due to the British Airways pilots’ strike.

I went out in the car, to share the bad news with Fi, as she was on her way home from a night out with her friends. Just around the corner from the collection spot at Surgeon’s Hall, the gear stick ceased to engage – the collar on the gear cable had broken (so the RAC man told us). We were supposed to be driving Sean and Claire to the airport at 4am, for their holiday in Corfu, but that was now not possible.

We got up with them anyway, to see them off in a taxi, which meant we were awake at 5am, so onto the BA website went Fiona to re-book our flights for one day earlier, the day before the strike was due to start. She got in before most folk whose travel plans had been disrupted started to do the same, and stories of inability to access the site and other issues unfolded during the Saturday. So far, so good!

On the Monday, I went down to The Crags for a meeting of the Centre’s Trustees. 10 minutes into the meeting, I suddenly developed an intense, and growing, pain in my lower left abdomen. This pain came and went until Wednesday night, when it re-visited in style, and I ended up in A&E at Little France at 4am on the Thursday. Long story short, a kidney stone I didn’t know I had was apparently on the move, kicking everything in sight on its way down my ureter. Transferred to the Western, one day fasting, two days in hospital, and I parted company with the little (?!) blighter on the Saturday morning. At various times throughout those 5 days, I seriously doubted whether I’d be making our big trip at all.

Very unfortunately, that weekend, Fi was due to go to Cannes with her mates, as part of her 60th Birthday celebrations. She loyally decided to call off to nurse her ailing husband, despite my protestations. At least her friends were kind enough to send her a photo of a gentlemen, apparently sporting an impressive member under his red swim shorts, who had come along the beach to stand in their vicinity. That cheered her up a bit.

Fiona then developed an abcess on one of her teeth, and had to go to the dentist for root canal treatment, 4 days before we left.

At some point that week, the active volcano on the Aeolian Island of Stromboli, our third port of call on this trip, erupted spectacularly, and a state of emergency was declared, in which ferry and hydrofoil access to the island was halted by the Mayor. We emailed the hotel on Stroboli and they assured us that everything would be fine. Their response was: “The situation on the island is quiet and in total safety, the volcano’s activity does nothing but increase the beauty of the landscape, in this period the island is very charming. We’ll wait for you! ” So, all fine there then.

Eventually, the day of our departure dawned and we drove out to the airport with Kathleen and Lewis, having previously said goodbye to Sean, who was at a music festival on Skye. We managed to find Edinburgh Airport no bother this time around, and Kathleen dropped us off and departed. A few steps towards the terminal buidling, I thought “My basketball boots feel funny”. I’d forgotten to put in the orthotic devices which help keep the geometry of my joints satisfactorily aligned. These inserts look unimpressive but, without them, key joints progressively start to play up. Knee, back, neck. Halo. I immediately phoned Kathleen and she made a mercy dash back to Seton Place, found the said objects, and came back to the airport with them, just in time for us to be fast-tracked through security and get to the gate moments before the flight to London Gatwick boarded.

So, all in all, not quite the uneventful and relaxed build-up to Retirement Trip Number Two which we had anticipated. Now on to the home of active volcanoes and the Mafia.