With the piles of paperwork printed in triplicate and passport zipped safely into my jacket pocket, I grabbed my suitcase and carry-on, gave mum a hug and jumped in the back of the black Prius taxi that I'd booked the previous night to collect me at 07.45 for the short, two mile ride to Pontefract Monkhill, the most forlorn of the three Pontefract railways stations. There couldn't be a more stark contrast between a journey's beginning and end!
The 8.18 to Leeds duly arrived and I was off, a quick change in Leeds and then it was direct to Manchester Airport. I guess due to covid and people still working from home but the rush-hours weren't the rush hours of old as there were seats on he train a plenty, and even in Leeds, one of the busiest commuter stations in the UK, there was barely a bustle, let alone a hustle!
Just 15minutes to wait, I just had time to grab a coffee and a newspaper before the train to Manchester Airport arrived, and again it was oddly quiet. I hauled the cases into the luggage rack, I grabbed a facing seat by a window at a table alone, set down the coffee and opened the newspaper.
Time flew by, as it does when you're the driver of a train and after just an hour, we were pulling into Manchester Piccadilly where it was announced the train would have to terminate due to driver shortages and that we'd have to disembark and wait for another train to the Airport in 30 minutes time right from the other side of the station, time to get some exercise as I dragged the luggage across the platforms.
As if in another defiant meteorological gesture, Manchester, the most dullest, wettest miserable city in the entire world was glowing in sunshine and bright blue skies and the air was clear and brisk and being sent to the far extreme of the station meant I was just able to make out the floodlights and roof of the 'Theatre of Nightmares', home of Scumchester United. My mood, already dark from anxiety of the trip home and its endless covid induced regulations and endless bureaucracy wasn't been helped as I stood freezing on the platform.
The flight wasn't until 13.55 and in the past, having checked in already, I'd simply dump the case at the baggage drop counter and with boarding passes already printed, get through customs into the departure lounge and relax, but no.
I'd arrived at 10.15 and dragged the cases, one of which was now rapidly disintegrating wheel along the endless skywalk, which again due to covid restrictions had had the moving walkways turned off into T2, where at three and a half hours before flight time would normally have had no queues at the counter, but not today.
It seems check-in desks now open 4 hours before departure instead of the normal three and seemingly, I was the only person on the planet to know this.
The whole terminal was eerily empty, with no more flights due to leave around that time, except for Qatar desks, and it was absolute bedlam
Hundreds of people were queued with a million suitcases on trolleys had formed un-orderly queues to the check-in desks, kids were running around and Qatar staff were frantically trying to organise things by continuously changing the shape of the queues using those retractable tape barriers but they obviously hadn't had the training course as it soon looked like a scene from a bizarre gameshow with people trapped in a maze as they had to work out which lane actually ended up at a check-in desk.
It was then that the most bizarre event took place. An old, like 52 year-old former badly broken leg started playing up and I began to limp a little and as I got closer to the writhing throngs, it seemed to get worse and worse until I was walking like an old man who'd just soiled himself.
I gave my thigh a little rub and subtly grimaced as a young lady approached me, resplendent in her very smart and pressed Qatar airways uniform, hat perched jauntily at an angle and a facemask straight from the box with its beautifully sharp creases and consistent colouring as yet untarnished by half a dozen Marlboro lights and an expresso.
"Hello Sir, may I help you? Where are you travelling today?"
"Home to Thailand", says I, giving my thigh another rub, for good effect, as opposed to the purpose of carnal pleasure you understand.
"Come this way."
RESULT!
She popped behind an empty counter and searched frantically for her Thailand entry requirements checklist.
"Let's start with your passport, please. Vaccine certificate? Thai-pass QR code? Insurance details? ASQ Hotel booking. Excellent, pop your suitcase on here please. Can you manage that Sir?"
At this point I couldn't hold back any longer and let out a muffled chuckle which to the untrained ear could have been the result of a further soiling episode.
"Oh, you're happy to be going home!" she said, smiling at me with her eyes. "That's it, you're sorted."
"Thank-you." I squeaked and I could feel my chest pounding as I worked so hard to contain further inappropriate bouts of mirth. Grabbing my carry-on, I practically sprinted past the lines of my ever-increasingly impatient, fellow passengers, and disappeared through the entrance to security and the safety of the departure lounge.
I've flown Qatar airways many times in the last twenty years, their onboard service and meals are even better in my opinion than Emirates and today's flight was onboard a beautiful Boeing 777-300ER for the 6hour and 20minute trip to Doha, Qatar.
The flight was packed, and I was pissed that I had a middle, middle seat in the 3-4-3 economy configuration.
In the heat of my self-congratulatory naughtiness, I'd forgotten to ask the nice young lady to change me to a window seat, for some reason the option hadn't been available to me when I'd checked in.
After a quick game of seat-rest elbow wrestling with the guy sat to my left, I settled down to the latest James Bond movie, 'No Time to Die' and enjoyed a quite delicious Beef Bourguignon and a couple of cheeky glasses of red, which in true restaurant fashion was given a drop to try before being filled up!
The service really is excellent, but funny as being an airline from a very Islamic country, never serve Pork dishes but are quite happy to supply you with endless glasses of alcohol!
The entertainment choices are also staggering on Qatar with over 1000 movies and TV shows to choose from and overall, was in stark contrast to the 'nice' but rather simple Finnair I'd come over on.
The six and a half hours 'flew' by and soon we were coming into land at the new, Hamad International Airport, Doha. It was my first time in this new terminal, I'd watched it being slowly built in the distant past as I'd landed many times before in Doha but beset by delays, only opened in 2014.
The old terminal building was an absolute shed and an embarrassment for the 'World's Five Star Airline'. There were very few sky bridges and it was always a case of walking off the plane and onto a bus before jumping on another bus to your next leg. Standing and swaying on a packed airport bus with your nose touching a strangers nose is not an enjoyable experience.
We stopped and being in the centre of the plane couldn't see outside until I got to the door when I was faced with the stairs and a waiting bus...
It seems they had replaced one rundown massively short of capacity shed, with a new swanky, massively short of capacity shed and defying the laws of physics, managed to cram a huge aircraft of close to three-hundred people onto to two, tiny, piddly little buses for the sightseeing tour of the airport's aprons and runways. Touching noses with strangers, even via the medium of a face mask was not pleasurable!
Don't get me wrong, the new shed is very nice and has its own internal monorail that ferries passengers up and down the various gates to their buses! If you're not bored with being squashed onto a bus, you be have a little bonus by squashed onto a monorail and ride up and down the terminal at your leisure until it's time for your flight!
To be fair to Qatar, they have transit down to a fine art. Over 90%of people who fly Qatar in HIA are passing through, hardly surprising really, you don't often see Doha appear in Conde Nast's list of world's most desirable holiday destinations although I did once spend a night there just to 'tick-off' another country!
It seems to me that modern airports these days, like to have 'art installations' and HIA is no exception...
I mean seriously, WTF? Its like the wooden bastard child of Micky Mouse and Pinnochio! That was genuinely, the thought that first struck me when I saw it, and strangely enough, it appeared I was fairly close in my critique!
After just an hour, it was time for another bus trip out to my ride to Bangkok, this time an old Airbus A330-200 was assigned to the sector.
Unlike the first leg of the journey, this flight was understandably only around 20 percent full. Quarantines and paperwork has turned Thailand into holiday destination pariah which was a blessing for me as I got a full middle-row of four seats to myself and with it being 2am Qatar time, and landing at 1240pm Bangkok time, I slept the whole way home.
I was awoken by the cabin attendant preparing the cabin for landing and dropped down into a deserted Suvarnabhumi Airport fifteen minutes early. From being one of the world's busiest airports, we were the only international flight landing in a six hour timeframe.
Don't be too sad though, I manged to get through 3 paperwork checks, a medical check, the normally nightmarish immigration counters, had my suitcase in hand and was outside waiting for the hotel rep to transport me to the quarantine hotel in a record 10 minutes! Even in pre-covid times it could take up to an hour.
