Volcanic ash and Michael O'Leary

05/26/2011 - 11:28

How did we feel about Michael o'Leary's view about flying through volcanic ash?  Would we be happy to fly with Ryanair as we'd have more chance of arriving at our destination, or more likely to fall out of the sky?



Oh bloody fantastic! Last time I went to UK, my x took the kids into London and  a bomb was found under a car, I went to visit my sis in Scotland and someone drove a car into the airport at Glasgow- I was at the other Glasgow airport at the time and everyone was texting me to see if I'd survived! This is why I get homesick at the end of my drive- I like it here!

Well that was 'fun' (unfortunately not for me!) The lovely people who work for Ryanair decided my bag was far too big to fit on their plane and told me I would have to pay £40 fee. I had only £12.50 in cash and a substantial supply of cadburys, which I was not prepared to negotiate with.  (Weighed in at 9.8 kilos so was within my limit but not apparantly my size) After the initial panic, I started emptying the case, inhaling bars of chocolate and stuffing my lovely new M&S smalls in my already overstuffed pockets. Resembling something across between a scarecrow and a michelin man as I added extra cardigans and jumpers. I was sweating like a fat lass in the 30% heat of a normal British summer. But I would not be beaten, and made it to the plane tightly clutching my last few quid. Then me and everybody else on the flight repacked our cases and wondered what the f... that was all about. Anyway survived the flight, walked to Pisa train station with heavy bag, got a train, got off at right stop, biggest fattest smile on my face as I danced down the road to my car, key in ignition... nothing, niente, or sod all in Jillspeak! Back up hill to train station - no longer dancing or smiling! Saturday is the local mechanics day off, but man at the bar with one leg and a stick had some jump leads, so he hobbled down to my car along with my other new best friend and we attached the leads. Unfortunately the selotape that held the leads together was a little less sticky than it had been when it was attached 25 years earlier, so we roped in a couple more pensioners and tried to push/jump it instead - still nothing. At this point my very own collection of Tuscan pensioners decided that it wasn't the battery and it must have an empty petrol tank. So in my 'fluent' Italian I pointed out that the dashboard lights were not fueled by petrol and as they were not functioning that it must in fact be the battery. So impressed that a mere female could know such a thing, they re-grouped and produced another set of jump leads. A glimmer of hope... but no the Fiat Panda on offer was reluctant to share, just as the the assembled pensioners had started the head scratching routine (thats when you know things are really bad) a 'proper' car pulled up and attached his bumper to mine. (not much damage!) Within minutes I had a live engine, and wanted to be on my way but Johnny one-leg thought I might want to give him a lift home. Bumper Humper saw my look of desperation and rescued me a second time, so I was off up the mountain and down the other side for a pizza and a glass of 'Pinot Grigio' It's damn good to be home!

qui già What a wonderful, amusing story you tell, I sympathised and also tittered along with the story, thanks and I hope you enjoyed your VERY well earned pizza and a glass of 'Pinot Grigio' S