This Is Why I’m Back in Beautiful Italy
Suckered by discount flights but I got to meet a fellow writer (and he’s famous)
“I’ve found flights to Milan for £30, shall I book them?” Mrs McEwan shouted from her iPad in the kitchen.
“Each way?”
“No, return.”
“Just book them then,” I called back fearing the price would rocket if we didn’t grab them.
Three weeks later, I’m crushed against a window on an Airbus WTF320 struggling to turn the pages of my book because the seat in front has reclined so far that I can roughly tell how many lice the occupant has per square inch of hair.
Behind me, a dad screams, “Stop screaming!” at his screaming kid.
I can’t get out of my seat to join the queue for the toilets because of the queue to the toilets.
To my right a man wearing a green and white football top farts and burps at the same time. His fellow travellers burst into raucous laughter before the smell hits them and they start choking.
I start choking.
“At least we only paid £30,” I whisper to Mrs McEwan.
“It was more like £300 by the time I added on the luggage.”
