Making our way back
Once out of the door its a 5 minute walk to the Bus Stop. Wolfgang was our driver for the 15 minute ride through town to the Train Station. After mutual wishing of 'Frohe Weihnachten' and Happy New Year we were last in the queue for the ticket machine. There is something about ticket machines that put people into a state of pure panic and confusion. Perhaps its the fact that people know there is a queue of punters behind them and that a train is due any moment. It is not really a difficult machine to operate but most of our fellow travellers definitely struggled. One older lady clearly could not see the touch screen and was prodding the plastic in all the wrong places. Another poor soul could not work out why their ticket was not printing despite the fact that he had not put his money in. Of course a 'yoof' with headphones had no problem at all. They have no experience of buying from grumpy ticket office personnel, pushing buttons and hitting keys is what they have always done. We have done it before as well and managed to get our tickets, we even put our credit card in the correct slot and the right way up which is a first for us.
Tickets in hand we had time to walk to where the front of the 08:30 train was about to stop. We sat in one of the old fashioned compartments for 6 people. TW was still coughing so insisted we use our cases to block the doorway and stop anyone from joining us. Cue the arrival of the coffee trolley and a nice fresh cuppa. TW's luggage barrier worked until Bishopshofen where a pleasant Austrian chap forced his way in. He was off to Linz to spend Xmas with his family and we had a nice chat about ski jumping and his holiday in the UK. On arrival in Salzburg, TW, our skiing diva, announced she would like to go shopping. We had plenty of time so off we toddled to the nearby Hervis Ski Shop where Father Christmas provided a very smart new jacket, eventually!
Next stop the Trolley Bus to the airport. This normally takes about 15 or 20 minutes but today the surrounding Autobahn was shut due to an accident and all the traffic was fighting its way along our route. This bus ride is usually the least favourite part of the trip but today was worse than ever. Our Lady driver was not happy at all and made ample use of the horn on the poor divertees. It took nearly an hour so we were doubly glad we had taken an early train. With the airport quiet and no queues for security we still had time for lunch at the Airport Bistro. This is a regular haunt on our trips home. TW always has Toast Amadeus, a musically themed Ham and Cheese Toastie with salad. I have a chicken salad and a final Austrian Beer purely on the grounds it would be discourteous not to.
We survived the intense scrutiny of Airport Security and arrived Belt-less and Boot-less in the Departure Lounge. I thought I might be stopped as my bag was full of Stollen and a heavy Tyrolean cake that is like a double density Christmas Pudding. Fortunately they looked very tasty and only mildly threatening on the X-Ray machine.
Travelling on BA means pre-booked seats so there is no scrum to get the best seating positions. It is also a bus transfer to the plane so there is no point at all in being first in the Boarding Queue. The only issue with waiting till last is finding space available in the overhead lockers for our bags. However, we opt for the front of economy and can put our bags in the almost empty Club Class racks. That is if we can lift TW's case up there!
A very jolly Captain welcomed us on board the 737. He sounded a bit like John Cleese. Amongst other things he warned us about possible potholes on our route, it was was quite reassuring that he let us know his co-pilot would be driving today, I think! Our rather humourless neighbour thought he had been on the whiskey. We made it to Gatwick OK with a very smooth landing. Have to say the BA experience is far superior to that on Ryanair. As long as the price is right it is worth flying the flag. Of course it is the competition from Ryanair and Easy that has made BA more affordable.
Electronic entry gates are always a challenge, a bit like ticket machines. Get the passport the right way up, stand in the right place, look straight at the haggard reflection. Who the hell is that! No wonder not many people use them and prefer the conventional human entry gates
Border Control seems to work much better since the improvements made for the Olympics and, with no baggage to collect, we were soon heading out of the North Terminal to pick up the waiting APH car park bus. Our little car was waiting for us in Copthorne so, before you could say Chris Rea, we were Driving Home for Christmas.
