It began with a bag:

It was not even a very interesting bag by most peoples standards.  But then, the bomb disposal unit has different standards to most people and they decided that it was interesting enough to evacuate Edinburgh airport, thus causing our flight from Bristol to be delayed.

It turned out that some crazy woman had arrived at the airport, decided that she had not brought any of the right clothes with her, and chose to leave her unwanted bag in the ladies toilets. After doing whatever bomb disposal teams do (probably sending a dog into the toilet to sniff the bag) a decision was made that the bag was uninteresting after all, and that the airport could commence operations.
Meanwhile at Bristol airport, our bags were also being accused of being somewhere where they were not supposed to be. Due the company with which we booked our trip assuming we would not be needing any luggage for the duration of our five days away, they neglected to include any baggage allowance for our flight. At least we had something to occupy our time while we were waiting for Edinburgh to reopen, and I spent much of that time standing in a queue to pay the £32 that the airline demanded so that I could take some clean pants, a guidebook and a razor with me.

Continued with a bitch:

While the aforementioned bags were being sniffed and paid for, the summer drizzle that was falling as we parked the car developed into a full blown tempest and The Gods threw down lightning bolts in an attempt to inconvenience us further. They appeared to be doing it quite successfully, and all flights out of Bristol were now grounded.

Sitting in the departure lounge, we wondered if the car-hire people would still be there if our flight was late getting in. Of course they would. Wouldn’t they?

The moment the tyres of the Airbus hit Scottish tarmac we began the long march to the car-hire desk that seemed to be situated on the other side of the town. Arriving slightly flustered and steaming in the cool night air, we stepped confidently to the desk and I presented the woman with our reservation number.
“I have to see your Driving License” she said in her broad accent. I offered my plastic license for inspection.
“And the paper part,” she continued. I questioned the request, but she was having non of it. No paper, no car.

I have always been under the impression that the plastic card I always carry with me was my driving license, but apparently this is not the case. According to Scottish law, if you are late and the car-hire lady has to stay at work it is not valid unless you also have the part that says ‘KEEP IN A SAFE PLACE’. I suspect that even if I did have the paper part on me, the nice Scottish bitch-lady would have asked for my birth certificate, three utility bills and a letter from my Mum, just to be awkward. Welcome to Scotland.

And ended on a bus:Edinburgh-Arthurs-Seat-from-Scott-Monument

It was late. It was dark. We had no car and no idea how we were now going to get to our hotel. It could have been a disastrous start to our holiday, but we chose not to let it be so, and we soon worked out which bus we needed to get us into town. As we drove through the dark Edinburgh streets we both agreed that this would change our plans, but would not be allowed to spoil our holiday. And it didn’t. As it was, we filled our time by exploring the city instead of travelling to other parts of Scotland as we had intended. What’s more, we discovered a city we both love and could have easily spent twice as long in.
The lesson learned? You may not have the holiday that you planned, but that doesn’t mean you won’t still have a great time.

 

Have you had a change of plan that worked out for the best?

Why not share your experience in the comments below.