OR, I SWORE I’D NEVER DO IT AGAIN.

Dumb stupid me.

The classic faux pas that a novice would do, not a veteran traveller like me. I thought that I would treat myself to just the one as I was bored on my last day. I’d been to the museum in the morning and planned to finish my blog after. It was then the WiFi started playing up and so did I. Not having a book is another schoolgirl error and I had finished mine a long time back up in the mountains.

Just the one I thought as I glugged down an icy beer in the last of the days sunshine. Then I trotted off to where I was to meet my cousin and as he was late another frothy concoction was quaffed. At the restaurant of course I had to join him for one, two then three over dinner. A nightcap is mandatory by then. I had no water in my room and I slept badly needing a lot of wees in the night. Truly stupid of me knowing I had an early flight. Lack of sleep, too many beers and also rising hysteria about returning to ghastly England.

Apart from getting lost on the way to the airport everything else seemed to go smoothly despite my weariness, headache and nausea until my phone pinged at the gate. Our plane is bust they are getting us a fresh one and here the agony begins. You know when they say just over and hour it’s bollacks, it’s going to be a ghastly amount of pissing about and suffering, not just for me with my hangover, but all the women who’ve just had beauty surgery in İzmir. I say beauty in a very general way as one doubts the stapling of stomachs and filing down of teeth for veneers could ever be for beautification in any way shape or form. The trout pouts and enlarged breasts, hips and bums are macabre to say the least and flying straight after must endanger you. From what I overheard in a nosy way was that they all were already feeling a little poorly before this delay.




























