Holiday, return, cat update
Kit and I went to Mexico for just over two weeks from 4 to 22 April. My mum and step-dad have had property in a small town named Bucerias, near Puerto Vallarta, for around four years now, and every year I say I'll go sometime, but go all sorts of other places instead. So I really couldn't put it off any longer although, to be honest, Mexico has never been on my radar as a place to visit, and it wasn't on Kit's either. Still, he wasn't going to say no to a spring holiday somewhere warm.
We did badly at planning. Kit would really have loved to go to Chiapas, and it was just about feasible, although quite expensive, and would have involved some extra internal flights. I was willing to agree to give up a week to that, on the condition that we spend the full other week in Bucerias, as really, Mum would be wanting to see me. But Kit kept talking about side trips we could make out of Bucerias as well, and eventually we got mad at each other, stopped communicating properly, and the upshot was that we arrived in Mexico without a proper plan other than 'We'll take our connecting flight to Bucerias and then plan excursions from there.'
Well, that's basically what we did, and it worked out fine. We spent the first and last few days more or less by the beach -- or the pool! -- at Mum and Keith's place, which was gorgeous and huge. We did day-trips to Puerto Vallarta and a small hippie surfing town called Sayulita during our time in Bucerias, and we went on a road trip in the middle. We first spent a few days in Guadalajara, exploring the colonial city centre and a suburb or two with a big market/local artisan shops. Then we carried on up to Morelia, which is an absolutely stunning colonial small town in the state of Michoacan. Then back down to Guadalajara for just long enough to do a day-tour into the town of Tequila... Kit did a lot of shopping there! -- on our way back to the coast.
My only regret is we didn't take in any archaeological sites, which is what Kit really wanted to do, and I think I would have been more interested in that too. If we had organised ourselves better, we could have worked our way down from Mexico City in the first week, spending three days in Mexico first and seen the ruins at Teotihuacan, then working our way down through Morelia and Guadalajara and done that bit perhaps somewhat faster, and then based ourselves in Bucerias the second week. But there you go. We couldn't work our arses out from our elbows and get it done, so, next time!
All the relaxation of the holiday, and especially of those last few days lounging by the pool, were sadly ruined on our arrival to London.
First there was the standard queue for the runway. We circled for a good forty-five minutes. I watched on the map and we literally dipped south of the M25 and did a big figure eight a few times -- upshot for me = airsickness. First time in years, and equally unpleasant for that. Then we seemed to be coming in for a landing... and took off again because the plane on the runway before us hadn't cleared due to steering problems. Fifteen more minutes before landing properly.
Once we were finally on the ground it then took us at least half an hour to get properly into the airport because there was an additional passport check. Like our passport photos are somehow going to change between getting off the plane and the ten minutes it takes to walk to customs.
OK, it was a bit more than ten minutes, because before getting to customs we had to take a shuttle train to another airport building. No sooner had we got on than I realised I'd left my netbook on the plane. I was a bit worried how Kit would react as he was already enraged about the extra passport check etc, but as soon as I said it he went straight into 'comfort and fix this' mode, probably because I was on the verge of bursting into tears. The shuttle doors had literally closed behind us a split second after I made my realisation, so we couldn't go back to the plane without riding it to the other end and getting another one back. When we got out, I noticed a flight attendant ahead of us and said to Kit, 'Oh, speak to him, ask him what to do.' Kit immediately ran up to him and said we'd left a laptop on the plane. 'What, that one?' asked the flight attendant, pointing to a flock of his colleagues up ahead of us... one of whom, unmistakeably, had my little netbook in its turquoise case under her arm!
Well, that was one bullet dodged, and we were feeling much more cheerful when we got to Customs. Kit has biometric data on his passport so he could go through the short queue -- he told me he'd get our luggage and wait for me there. The wait wasn't too long, just under half an hour maybe.
At the other end, Kit and a very few people from our flight were still waiting for luggage. Mind you, there was a lot of it going round. We waited for the best part of half an hour more when Kit got chatting to the people next to us, who said that, like us, they'd had a connecting flight in Mexico City. In their case, they'd originally come from Mazatlan, in ours, from Puerto. So we all twigged and grabbed a nearby employee to ask what was going on. He put out a call and was able to tell us pretty much immediately that all the luggage from our plane had been unloaded and no more was coming.
Kit was livid. I realised just as we got in the queue for lost luggage that in my big suitcase was my handbag and in my handbag were my housekeys but this discovery almost got lost in the barrage of indignation Kit poured on the guy behind the counter that no one had bothered to let us know our bags had been left behind in Mexico City. The guy rather foolishly exclaimed, looking at his screen, 'Oh, no, these bags never left Mexico' to which Kit was able to retort, if his computer told him that couldn't they have made an announcement! Meanwhile, after filling in my bag claim form, I got on the phone to start calling people with spare keys.
Now, obviously I'd had to make arrangements for cat care whilst I was away. I'd hoped at first that the cleaner could do both weeks, but as it turned out, she was also away for the first week of our holiday, as she was going home to Lithuania with her boyfriend and daughter for the Easter holidays. So I signed her up to do the second week only and roped a friend into popping in daily during the first. I got an extra set of keys made for my friend Matt so he could get in during week one, and of course the cleaner has keys anyway so she was all set for week two. I had left the food in an obvious place with notes and money for each of them.
I phoned my friend Matt first as he lives in Hackney and the cleaner is out in Wanstead. Sadly, he wasn't contemplating being near his home till around 9pm -- it was around four in the afternoon at this time. So I called Vilma next.
Vilma almost sounded as though I'd woken her, and definitely seemed on the defensive from the moment she picked up. It quickly came out -- on the second day of their holiday in Lithuania, her boyfriend had had a stroke. They hadn't come back to London until the previous day and she hadn't been in at all to feed my beasties. She was telling me that she'd sent me a text about what happened, and we had a bit of back and forth because I never received it, but I didn't really care about that -- I just cared about getting to her, getting the keys, and getting back home to my babies as soon as possible.
On Kit's suggestion we got a cab, which, I'm not sure if it made it faster or not, but it was expensive. Expensive like I'm ashamed to even say how much it was -- there are only black cabs available at the airport and they don't come cheap! The cabbie was chatty too and wanted to talk about all sorts of subjects designed to enrage me. Luckily I was so upset about the cats that I was able to sit silently while Kit fielded all his talk.
When we finally got home, Toby was in the hallway as I opened the door and amazingly, he looked fine. He ate like he'd never seen food before when I put it down, but he didn't look underfed. He then went around the house yelling for a bit. At the time I thought maybe he was calling for Leo and I searched all the rooms for him, but since then I've decided that Toby was making a fine old living for himself out of rubbish bins, and simply wasn't pleased to see the humans back in 'his' house!
Kit had a walk outside to look for Leo and found him in a nearby front garden. He wouldn't let Kit pick him up but when I came out with some food I was able to gather him up and bring him back fairly easily. He was skinny. I felt absolutely terrible -- they were like little malnourished children!
However, in the time since then, they've recovered fine. Leo unskinnied in about a week, and Toby is almost hulking these days. In personality -- Toby's as he ever was and -- get this! -- Leo has turned into a lapcat! Not just a lapcat, a lapcat to the extent that, when I put him off to stand up, if he's not done cuddling, he climbs back on again! Mind you, this is only with me so far, he hasn't climbed into anyone else's lap, although he lets Kit pet him and pick him up quite happily. They both still climb into bed with me if given the opportunity, and that's the only time Toby will let himself be properly petted.
As for the suitcases -- we were told we'd get them the next day. We didn't, and no one called. So on the Monday night Kit called and yelled at someone, and was told they'd not got on the flight they were supposed to be on, and they'd now gone to Madrid, and they'd be with us the next afternoon. So Kit told them to deliver to his place in the evening and I waited around at home on Tuesday, and they didn't come. Kit called again early afternoon and was told they'd arrive in the evening. Then he got a call from the guy driving the delivery truck, who was outside his house -- and of course Kit was at work! So Kit yelled a bit more and arranged for them to be delivered to mine.
Unfortunately one thing was broken -- a big decorative wall mask Kit had bought as a present for his mother. Of course, that could potentially have been broken on either of our own flights, I suppose, but the intercontinental travel certainly didn't reduce the odds of it!
We did badly at planning. Kit would really have loved to go to Chiapas, and it was just about feasible, although quite expensive, and would have involved some extra internal flights. I was willing to agree to give up a week to that, on the condition that we spend the full other week in Bucerias, as really, Mum would be wanting to see me. But Kit kept talking about side trips we could make out of Bucerias as well, and eventually we got mad at each other, stopped communicating properly, and the upshot was that we arrived in Mexico without a proper plan other than 'We'll take our connecting flight to Bucerias and then plan excursions from there.'
Well, that's basically what we did, and it worked out fine. We spent the first and last few days more or less by the beach -- or the pool! -- at Mum and Keith's place, which was gorgeous and huge. We did day-trips to Puerto Vallarta and a small hippie surfing town called Sayulita during our time in Bucerias, and we went on a road trip in the middle. We first spent a few days in Guadalajara, exploring the colonial city centre and a suburb or two with a big market/local artisan shops. Then we carried on up to Morelia, which is an absolutely stunning colonial small town in the state of Michoacan. Then back down to Guadalajara for just long enough to do a day-tour into the town of Tequila... Kit did a lot of shopping there! -- on our way back to the coast.
My only regret is we didn't take in any archaeological sites, which is what Kit really wanted to do, and I think I would have been more interested in that too. If we had organised ourselves better, we could have worked our way down from Mexico City in the first week, spending three days in Mexico first and seen the ruins at Teotihuacan, then working our way down through Morelia and Guadalajara and done that bit perhaps somewhat faster, and then based ourselves in Bucerias the second week. But there you go. We couldn't work our arses out from our elbows and get it done, so, next time!
All the relaxation of the holiday, and especially of those last few days lounging by the pool, were sadly ruined on our arrival to London.
First there was the standard queue for the runway. We circled for a good forty-five minutes. I watched on the map and we literally dipped south of the M25 and did a big figure eight a few times -- upshot for me = airsickness. First time in years, and equally unpleasant for that. Then we seemed to be coming in for a landing... and took off again because the plane on the runway before us hadn't cleared due to steering problems. Fifteen more minutes before landing properly.
Once we were finally on the ground it then took us at least half an hour to get properly into the airport because there was an additional passport check. Like our passport photos are somehow going to change between getting off the plane and the ten minutes it takes to walk to customs.
OK, it was a bit more than ten minutes, because before getting to customs we had to take a shuttle train to another airport building. No sooner had we got on than I realised I'd left my netbook on the plane. I was a bit worried how Kit would react as he was already enraged about the extra passport check etc, but as soon as I said it he went straight into 'comfort and fix this' mode, probably because I was on the verge of bursting into tears. The shuttle doors had literally closed behind us a split second after I made my realisation, so we couldn't go back to the plane without riding it to the other end and getting another one back. When we got out, I noticed a flight attendant ahead of us and said to Kit, 'Oh, speak to him, ask him what to do.' Kit immediately ran up to him and said we'd left a laptop on the plane. 'What, that one?' asked the flight attendant, pointing to a flock of his colleagues up ahead of us... one of whom, unmistakeably, had my little netbook in its turquoise case under her arm!
Well, that was one bullet dodged, and we were feeling much more cheerful when we got to Customs. Kit has biometric data on his passport so he could go through the short queue -- he told me he'd get our luggage and wait for me there. The wait wasn't too long, just under half an hour maybe.
At the other end, Kit and a very few people from our flight were still waiting for luggage. Mind you, there was a lot of it going round. We waited for the best part of half an hour more when Kit got chatting to the people next to us, who said that, like us, they'd had a connecting flight in Mexico City. In their case, they'd originally come from Mazatlan, in ours, from Puerto. So we all twigged and grabbed a nearby employee to ask what was going on. He put out a call and was able to tell us pretty much immediately that all the luggage from our plane had been unloaded and no more was coming.
Kit was livid. I realised just as we got in the queue for lost luggage that in my big suitcase was my handbag and in my handbag were my housekeys but this discovery almost got lost in the barrage of indignation Kit poured on the guy behind the counter that no one had bothered to let us know our bags had been left behind in Mexico City. The guy rather foolishly exclaimed, looking at his screen, 'Oh, no, these bags never left Mexico' to which Kit was able to retort, if his computer told him that couldn't they have made an announcement! Meanwhile, after filling in my bag claim form, I got on the phone to start calling people with spare keys.
Now, obviously I'd had to make arrangements for cat care whilst I was away. I'd hoped at first that the cleaner could do both weeks, but as it turned out, she was also away for the first week of our holiday, as she was going home to Lithuania with her boyfriend and daughter for the Easter holidays. So I signed her up to do the second week only and roped a friend into popping in daily during the first. I got an extra set of keys made for my friend Matt so he could get in during week one, and of course the cleaner has keys anyway so she was all set for week two. I had left the food in an obvious place with notes and money for each of them.
I phoned my friend Matt first as he lives in Hackney and the cleaner is out in Wanstead. Sadly, he wasn't contemplating being near his home till around 9pm -- it was around four in the afternoon at this time. So I called Vilma next.
Vilma almost sounded as though I'd woken her, and definitely seemed on the defensive from the moment she picked up. It quickly came out -- on the second day of their holiday in Lithuania, her boyfriend had had a stroke. They hadn't come back to London until the previous day and she hadn't been in at all to feed my beasties. She was telling me that she'd sent me a text about what happened, and we had a bit of back and forth because I never received it, but I didn't really care about that -- I just cared about getting to her, getting the keys, and getting back home to my babies as soon as possible.
On Kit's suggestion we got a cab, which, I'm not sure if it made it faster or not, but it was expensive. Expensive like I'm ashamed to even say how much it was -- there are only black cabs available at the airport and they don't come cheap! The cabbie was chatty too and wanted to talk about all sorts of subjects designed to enrage me. Luckily I was so upset about the cats that I was able to sit silently while Kit fielded all his talk.
When we finally got home, Toby was in the hallway as I opened the door and amazingly, he looked fine. He ate like he'd never seen food before when I put it down, but he didn't look underfed. He then went around the house yelling for a bit. At the time I thought maybe he was calling for Leo and I searched all the rooms for him, but since then I've decided that Toby was making a fine old living for himself out of rubbish bins, and simply wasn't pleased to see the humans back in 'his' house!
Kit had a walk outside to look for Leo and found him in a nearby front garden. He wouldn't let Kit pick him up but when I came out with some food I was able to gather him up and bring him back fairly easily. He was skinny. I felt absolutely terrible -- they were like little malnourished children!
However, in the time since then, they've recovered fine. Leo unskinnied in about a week, and Toby is almost hulking these days. In personality -- Toby's as he ever was and -- get this! -- Leo has turned into a lapcat! Not just a lapcat, a lapcat to the extent that, when I put him off to stand up, if he's not done cuddling, he climbs back on again! Mind you, this is only with me so far, he hasn't climbed into anyone else's lap, although he lets Kit pet him and pick him up quite happily. They both still climb into bed with me if given the opportunity, and that's the only time Toby will let himself be properly petted.
As for the suitcases -- we were told we'd get them the next day. We didn't, and no one called. So on the Monday night Kit called and yelled at someone, and was told they'd not got on the flight they were supposed to be on, and they'd now gone to Madrid, and they'd be with us the next afternoon. So Kit told them to deliver to his place in the evening and I waited around at home on Tuesday, and they didn't come. Kit called again early afternoon and was told they'd arrive in the evening. Then he got a call from the guy driving the delivery truck, who was outside his house -- and of course Kit was at work! So Kit yelled a bit more and arranged for them to be delivered to mine.
Unfortunately one thing was broken -- a big decorative wall mask Kit had bought as a present for his mother. Of course, that could potentially have been broken on either of our own flights, I suppose, but the intercontinental travel certainly didn't reduce the odds of it!