The Anonymous Widower

Thoughts On My Home Run From Marrakech

Once I got on the train towards London I felt safe, although even then, I could have suffered from overhead line problems or a breakdown in the tunnel.

But the whole holiday could have been so much worse!

Getting off the plane in Marrakech was a very protracted affair, as the guy in the row behind needed a wheel-chair and this held everybody up, whilst his conveyance arrived.

I was virtually last off the plane and it took me forever to get to the luggage carousel, where there was just one bag going round and round on the conveyor. It looked like mine, as it was a grey/blue Mandarina Duck pull-along. So I picked it up and got ready to pull it outside for my taxi.

But something wasn’t right! I checked the pocket, which was where I put my book and I found a blue scarf that I didn’t remember as being mine.

Then I noted it had a red label with the company Rambler on it. Now that wasn’t the company I’d used, so I checked the label, which was in a name of Burnage!

It wasn’t my case and obviously Burnage, whoever he was, had taken mine!

But the place was deserted, so I evenbtually left the case and went outside.

A guy was holding up a board saying Ramblers, so I approached him and eventually I was reunited with my case.

But the Ramblers party, were on their way to God knows where and as I had no mobile phone how would they have reunited me with my case, which of course contsined my medical supplies!

A bad holiday could have been turned into an absolute disaster.

The morals of this trip are as follows.

1. Don’t use travel agents, who book you economy, when judging by your record with them, you’ve always used Club.
2. Make sure that the wi-fi and/or Internet in your hotel comes highly recommended.
3. Don’t travel on the same plane, as idiots named Burnage.
4. Don’t go to Chamartin station and above all avoid the hotel there.
5. But above all don’t lose your mobile phone!

I reckon I spent about two grand on this holiday and the only pleasure I had in Marrakesh was an afternoon in the hamman. I could have spent the money on an exclusive massage with half-a-dozen blondes and got a lot more pleasure!

I do have one regret though.  I had thought of doing a home run from Marrakech by train and ferry, but my son was apprehensive. When I decided to come home, I should have gone straight to the station and got a train to Tangier, followed by a ferry to Spain, from where I could have got a train to Madrid and onward to London.

To read all of my Home Run from Marrakech posts, click here.

T

February 13, 2014 - Posted by AnonW | Transport/Travel | Home Run From Marrakech, Trains