Copping a Blighty

We didn't want to get up and battle with the suitcases. Having bullied them into submission we pulled them to reception past lots of early morning Germans including some playing on the beach at 7 am.
Jof sat at breakfast making jam rolls for our flight home and we were picked up by a giant double decker coach which sped through the rain (yes) at precisely the local speed limit, scattering the numerous wild chickens in the fields.
There was a big crash on the motorway with firemen cutting people out of a car that was the wrong shape at both ends. The airport is really big and we all took it in turns to go for exploratory wanders while we waited for over an hour in the baggage check-in queue.
Bud had 60 kgs excess baggage, in the end we had to leave Gabriela behind!
Then we lost Jof when we'd taken her boarding card by mistake and she had to call security and Buds' metal leg set off the metal detector and the bottle of water hidden at the bottom of my carry-on luggage set off the X-Ray woman and this is why Jof doesn't like to travel.
I bought some duty-free keyrings while he got complicated foreign drinks and I got to carry Jofs' duty free biscuits I think, called Fumar Perjudica.
One minute our flight number wasn't on the departures screen at all and then suddenly it was last call so we ran through and waited on one of those funny flat buses for the people that were even later than us.
The baggage hadn't even been loaded half an hour after we were due to leave, the captain said there was one less bag in the hold than on the paperwork so they had to argue in Spanish while we waited on the tarmac.
Luckily we were 3 seats in front of the permanently crying baby so we sat there while the airport gradually emptied around us. Jof said we should get a proper plane next time.
After only an hour and a 1/4, the baggage discrepancy was sorted out and we took off right into a storm over the northern Mallorcan mountains. It got mildly bumpy for a while. The captain had to keep going bingbong please fasten your seatbelts and he didn't go mingmong the seatbelt light is off until we were over mainland Spain.

We ate our jam rolls and got chocolate off the trolley dollies anyway, hurrah. We watched Bordeaux and the Gironde estuary go by, then Jersey and finally we hit UK airspace over Hurst Castle and touched down on home soil and I pulled my own suitcase from the carousel with difficulty.
I was not, however, able to stop the suitcase trolley from going sideways into the road. We were all very happy to get home which meant hours and hours of unpacking, sorting and laundry: my contribution was to play Minecraft.
We were naughty with food for the last time and had a McDongles. I am sad that I cannot babble inanely for ages to Nanna about what a splendid holiday I've had.