All quiet on the Western front

So, there has been radio silence since we landed back in the UK, and that's because it's been incredibly hectic. After nature intervened with a volcano, and delayed our homecoming by 6 days, we were thrown in at the deep end with no time to readjust - straight back to work, unpacked backpacks and boxes all over the house, mountains of laundry and other miscellaneous household chores just waiting to be tackled. Throw the wedding into the mix, and you have complete, non-stop chaos... And so the blog has taken a backseat to real life for a while.

At the risk of boring you all with the minutiae of my Bridezilla antics (my new motto being: 'if you can't beat 'em, join 'em'), I will restrict this first post at least to non-wedmin anecdotes - though as I seem to spend most of my time with a bridal magazine on the table in front of me, a pair of scissors in one hand and a pritt stick in the other compiling a scrap book, I can't promise that you will be so lucky next time... and apologies for that in advance.

So - of all the places to be stuck, Ben and I had to end up in QATAR. A dry state, when all you really want is a cold beer or chilled glass of wine. *sigh* On the plus side, we were staying in a nice hotel, for free, with an all you can eat buffet 7-10, 11-3 and 5-9 - so we had comparatively little to complain about when many people were sleeping on airport chairs or floors (as here in Milan airport)... or stuck in the Maldives in a 5* resort with a family of four.*

After three days in Doha, we were pulling our hair out with boredom (not just because there was no alcohol, but admittedly this was a major factor...) and we hopped on an unscheduled flight to Rome, that had letters instead of a flight number and did not show up on any departures or arrivals boards or websites in Doha or Rome. Mysterious! At least it wasn't cancelled like all of these flights...

I can assure you the flight did exist, as we arrived gleeful and safe in Rome on Sunday 18 April - the day before we were both set to start work after our respective 'career breaks'. Less than ideal - but what could be done?

I begged and begged Ben to stay in Rome for one night so I could sample the delights if Italian paaaaasta, but he adopted an unusually strict stance and we found ourselves on a (free) bus to Geneva, put on by Qatar airways for those originally destined for Geneva, Zurich or Milan. Luckily they were not checking boarding passes, and we hope there weren't two unfortunate passengers stranded as we took their places....

Seventeen hours later, with two hours waiting at Milan airport in the middle of the night, we arrived in Geneva, six hours later than anticipated, and too late for any sleep in our pre-booked hotel room. *sigh* Luckily, we were there just in time to pick up the second of our booked hire cars (the first having been cancelled while we were on the bus, due to an impromptu ban on international hire), and thanks to dad for spending hours on the phone collating info about how best to get back to the UK, and availability of trains, buses and hire cars.

During the bus ride, we also managed to pick up a couple of hitchhikers on their way to Paris, and we set off on a beautiful drive through the French country side, arriving in Paris around 5pm.... and at Gare du Nord at around 7pm - exhausted and in desperate need of a nap after a gruelling 45 hours on the move. Luckily, Ben's mum had stepped in and saved the day by booking us into a lovely hotel just off the Champs Elysee.

We went to a delicious and quirky bistro with Florian, but had to turn down his suggestion of a 25 minute hike up Montmartre as we were simply too exhausted. The next morning we breakfasted with Ben's parents at the George V hotel, before heading off towards Dieppe. 'Oh what a lot of time we have!' we thought, happily. But lo and behold, the roads were narrow and winding, and our cheese and wine stop in the Carrefour took a little longer than anticipated, so before we knew it, it was an hour before the deadline for check in at the ferry and we still had the hire car to drop off in the centre of town...

Ben dropped me off at the port with the luggage, and I completed some sneaky manoeuvres to manage to check us both in without Ben actually being there, which was a relief. While I waited for Ben to get back to the port, I was thoroughly entertained by everyone else's stories about their journeys across Europe. One man had run out of Parkinson's medication, and was desperate to get back. I overheard another guy on the phone to the car hire company: "So..... The rental agreement says I need to drop the car off in Avignon. Hmm. Yes. Hmm. Well, you'll find it in the Dieppe ferry port, with the keys in the ignition. Byeeee!"

Luckily, Ben made it back in time, we boarded the ferry and enjoyed some beers with our wine and cheese on the way. Ben's dad picked us up from the ferry port and drove us back to London. After not having seen us for so long, he was probably a little disappointed that our chat lasted about 7 minutes before we both conked out for the journey, and arreived home on Wednesday - six days later than planned. Ouchie! Here's hoping the insurance will pay out on that delay....

* Honestly, the things some people complained about.