We awoke at 5.30, showered, had a cigarette and a brew and were out of the door by 6:40, with the intention of arriving at the car park for 7:30 and having the valet pick up the car before making our way to Wetherspoons for a desperately needed breakfast. It was not to be. We arrived first at a near endless traffic jam that seemed reluctant to move at all, and nor did we see any cars coming the other way. It took us maybe 20 minutes to reach the traffic lights, only to realise that the bloody things were broken and that no one seemed brave enough to take the chance on running a red light that was clearly not going to change any time soon.
The delay, of course, brought us onto the M8 just in time for rush hour and for some inexplicable reason, we would drive for 2 minutes then slow almost to a stop for 5 minutes. It was a tedious, painstaking, callus-inducing, heart-wearying time and had us running late. But at last, we arrived, waited another 10 minutes for the valet and were rushed through with the rest of the late arrivals for check in, to arrive at the gate just as it was closing. So, yes, not a pleasant start to the day by any stretch of the imagination. And my imagination stretches far.
The flight was unbearable, but thankfully, rather short, the food was fairly decent too, surprisingly, but there was so little leg room that for a man of my height and size, finding any degree of comfort was as likely as looking out of the window to see an paragliding elephant keeping pace.
Switzerland came to us at last though, with a very easy descent into the airport. No turbulence, thank the Aenir. But my ear has been giving me stick ever since and refuses to sort itself out. Occasionally, it will pop but the discomfort is there all the same. Bah.
Oh well. The sun is shining and the cold is retreating, for now. Time to try a beer and have a cigarette on the balcony and welcome in a three week Swiss Christmas.