My parents had gone to France to see out the sale of our apartment in the alps. I had taken them to the aiport last Thursday, leaing at 4am so they could get there in time for their 7am flight. The journey was pretty easy both ways and I made it home quicker than expected.

The pickup however was a different story.

On the monday night, I had to be at Stansted Airport at midnight to pick them up. I arrived about ten minutes to the hour, parked the car and then went into the terminal to meet them. The drive up there was pretty annoying because there was (surprise, surprise) thick fog covering the whole of the south of England. I had driven slowly and surely making sure to take the correct turnings when needed.

OK, back to the airport. Inside the airport I walk over to one of the screens. It notifies me that their flight from Turin will be landing in 5 minutes, I think thats fine and sit down for them to touch down, grab their baggage and then meet me. I look over at the screens again and notice that some of the other flights are being delayed and some even diverted. Slowly the more recent flights start showing up as diverted, diverted to other airports. A man walks up beside me and tells the people around me that he has just been told that the runway has been closed and that all flights will be diverted elsewhere, what do you know….the flight from Turin has been diverted to Gatwick Airport…..what…the….fuck.

I start to worry about what to do, obviously I cant phone them because they are still in the air. I decide the best course of action is to return to the car and wait there, that way I can be prepared for a quick getaway. The problem with this was that I had only passed my driving test three weeks previous and didnt have a clue in what direction Gatwick actually was, otherwise I would have jumped straight in the car and dashed to pick them up.

After getting into the car, the phone rings, it’s my stepdad. He tells me that they have been diverted blah blah blah and asks me what I would like to do. He says I can either go home and they will make their own way home or I can drive over to Gatwick and pick them up. I decide that I want to pick them up, my stepdad tells me loose directions and I get on my way.

Half of the journey to Gatwick was fine, I am familiar with the M25 and I am able to navigate my way to the Dartford Crossing (crosses the River Thames for non-Brits) without a problem. However due to the heavy fog, the other side was quite a different story. Not knowing my way after the crossing I am looking out for signs for the M23, this will take me to Gatwick and the end of my journey.

As I am driving on the motorway looking for this turn-off I see that the road splits into two separate junctions, I have to make a split-second decision due to the speed the sign comes up and the impossibility of seeing the sign until its right on top of me, I dive right and hope it’s the right decision. I decide that it isnt and I turn off the first road I can find so I can come back the other side and then try again. This road however isnt a normal road, it merges with the M20, I end up driving for 25 miles until I find a junction to turn round in. There are no signs for the return to that motorway so it takes me yet another 20 minutes to find my way back to the M20 and then onto the M25 again.

I get back to the Dartford Crossing and turn round to start the second half of the journey again. What do you know? I made the correct decision the first time but didnt think to stay on the road and see where it went, I should have stayed on instead of trying to turn round at the M20.

I know this is getting long so I will summarise the last part as best as I can.

I find the M23, the fog is thick but I manage to find Gatwick. I pull up at the pickup point and call my parents to see where they are. I am informed they still havent gotten their baggage and that it shouldnt be much longer. I then wait another 3 hours in the pickup point as my parents battle to find their luggage, it turns out that the airline have lost the baggage and are trying to find it. They feed the usual bullshit like “Maybe they werent loaded at Turin”, “Perhaps they are still on the plane” and “Some other airline may have them.” - All these still dont bring the bags out do they?!

It hits 5.00am and the bags are found, where were they? On the plane still. The airline are c**ts of the highest order. I then have to direct my parents to where I am parked and get an irate earful because I didnt park in the right place (even though I told them 5 times where I was when they asked beforehand).

My stepdad drives home and we get in for 6am. I have 2 hours sleep and then goto work. I was like a zombie for the first half of the day and my boss allows me to go home. I sleep from 2pm until 9pm, wake up for a couple of hours and then return to bed at 11pm, trying to fall asleep again. That proves difficult as my parents manage to invite the neighbours in for a drink and I have to hear every word they say due to the openness of my house.

So, as you can tell, I wasn’t a happy camper.

Here are some pictures of what my journey was like: