Memoirs of a Travelling Wapshare - Part 2

So, I should now explain to you that my Dad was born in the USA while his mum was on holiday... he has lived in the UK his entire life, yet he still to this day has an American passport. This has been with the idea that if we ever wanted to move to America then we could; obviously... this is yet to happen. So the American Passport has actually proven itself to be more of a disadvantage than an advantage.

This takes me on to the story for today, which was a lovely family holiday to Spain, just last summer.

It was another last minute plan. Toby, my youngest brother was in Portugal with his friends, and was flying in to Alicante the day after we arrived. My mum, dad, Theo (my other younger brother) and myself were to fly to Girona, pick up a hire car and drive alllllllll the way down to our chalet- which was in beautiful Calpe (about an 8 hour drive).

Anyway, we're all at the airport, and it's stupid o'clock in the morning, we are waiting to board the plane. I did the online check in before we left the house, which meant that it was an easier airport visit than normal. However I did inform my Dad (and entire family) that because of his American passport he would need to get his boarding pass stamped before he could fly. For some reason, totally unbeknown to me... nobody either believed or agreed with me. "Why would he need to get it stamped if he has never had to before" etc etc.

Well, I don't know why. But I do know that once the lady took one look at his boarding pass and passport, he was told that he would not be able to board the plane. She refused to let him run back through just to get it stamped, or to stamp it herself... instead we were told that Theo, Mum and myself must choose to either board the plane now or not at all and that under no circumstances would Dad fly now.

After a little deliberation, Dad told us to get on the plane and that he would work it out and meet us there. So, a teary eyed mum, an annoyed Theo, and an "I-told-you-so" Jess boarded the plane. Whilst my Dad was escorted out of the airport as if he was smuggling something that ticked quite loudly in his pocket. Quite a nice and quick flight. Next thing you know we've landed and I have a text message from my Dad saying something along the lines of:

Jessie, there were no more flights to Girona today, so I have booked a flight to Barcelona, I will land at 10:30am Spanish time, and if you feel comfortable then meet the car hire man and collect the car and drive down to pick me up. If you don't feel comfortable then don't worry- I will get the train to Girona. Enjoy your first morning of the holiday- and please drive very safely. xxx

So, following these instructions, that's what I did. I'd never driven on the "wrong side of the road" before so it was quite an exciting experience. Not to mention the fact that we got to Barcelona airport before my Dad had even landed- okay, so we did get lost and there was some shouting and screaming between me and Theo, but on the most part, he was a fantastic navigator; mum, a great passenger and me, well a great driver (hah).

Once reunited with Dad, we continued the drive down to Calpe, collected Toby the next day and went on to have a wonderful holiday. And Dad even managed to fly all the way home without any problems... well, kind of! But that's for another day!

Thanks for reading!
Jessie x