Miguel Keenanan - Mike's Big Adventure 2004

Day One : Manchester To London

Manchester Airport : 18:30

This is it. The beginning of my holiday, nay adventure. I arrive at Manchester Airport with my "eticket" in hand and ready to fly down to the big smoke... or London .

It should be noted that I wasn't just flying for the sheer joy of it, there were significant time and money savings using www.flybmi.com . And a good job too, I have never been flying's greatest fan. If God had meant man to fly he wouldn't have created airplane safety cards.

"Should there be a need to perform an emergency landing you should assume the brace position. This position is designed to ensure that you are as safe as possible during the landing."

This position involves leaning forward and putting your hands behind your head.... shortly before ploughing into central Birmingham at 600 miles per hour with tanks of aviation fuel strapped either side of your 6 feet wide cabin.

I feel safe already.

And flying from Manchester to London we're told about the life jacket under our seats. In case we come down in someone's garden pond.

Despite my concerns we take off and the flight goes relatively smoothly. As we fly over Birmingham we're on time and the views are frankly spectacular on such a clear evening. The in-flight “Meal” turned out to be half of a soggy cheese sandwich, but what the hey, I begin to think that the trip down south might go to plan.

Until we reach the airplane stack of doom.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, we have been informed that there is heavy air traffic over Heathrow and we will therefore have to join a holding pattern for approximately 30 minutes. During this time you may see other aircraft flying very close to us. This is completely normal under these circumstances and there is no need....

VROOOM

“… yep, that was a British Airways Plane. Nothing to worry about... Click... Jeff, can you keep us away from the Jumbos.... Click"

At this point the Australian backpacker next to me decides that this is the moment to start Anglo-Antipodean relations.

"So mate, what are you travelling to London for?"

I quickly explained about the big adventure and that I was going to be seeing Claire in Phantom of the Opera the next evening.

"Strewth Mate"... I'm deliberately enforcing the stereotype...” That sounds great. I've been up to Manchester to see Madonna".

Great, I said, I saw her in Lourdes once.

“Right..." He said “That must have been a good gig for her to have named her daughter after the place.

Indeed.

Captain. ... Could I maybe get off here? A Parachute? Not entirely necessary.

London Heathrow: 21:45

Touchdown… of sorts.

After 4 bounces the wheels finally catch hold of the runway and we scream to a halt. As soon as the doors open we all pile out of the plane and I begin the search for my driver.

Yes, I had a driver. I booked it in advance. After all what could be better than arriving at the airport to a well dressed Jeeves alike who would bring around the Merc and whisk me away to my central London hotel, utilizing all the shortcuts that only "People like us, Mr Keenan" are entitled to use.

I have no idea what could be better than that, as I received service which fell slightly short of these expectations.

Firstly, I searched the arrivals hall for my name. Hundreds of cards floated around, Jenkins, Fitzsimons, Danue, Coke-Cola. Not a single Keenan. One driver asked me if I was Mr Hussein and I was tempted to try it on, but reason returned shortly before I adopted the accent.

Instead I called the Chauffeur firm.

“Hello Tarquin speaking, how can I help?”

“Hello Tarquin, my name is Mike Keenan; I have a car booked to take me to the Strand Palace Hotel from Heathrow."

“Ah yes, Mr Keenan... Your driver is on his way, but he is having some trouble finding you in Arrivals. Do you have any distinguishing characteristics?"

"Absolutely, I have a hump on my back, a patch over one eye and I'm wearing carnations in my hair"

“Is that sarcasm Mr Keenan"

“Got it in one Tarquin"

*Click*

“Mr Keenan?"

I turned to find the shortest man in the world standing behind me. Remember Fantasy Island ? Remember the midget? This guy is his brother.

“Mr Keenan, I find you... " ... “Boss, the plane, the plane”, (I added that)

After confirming my identity he charges off towards his car, leaving me to carry my entire luggage. Fair enough I think... As long as the car is not too far.

20 Minutes Later

"But I do not understand Boss. I leave car on level 1E, now car is not on Level 1E. It is gone. You wait here I will find car."

20 more minutes of standing in the middle of a car park attempting to act natural.

“I found car Boss... this way."

"Phew... it's rather hot carrying all these bags."

“Ah... I will carry bags Boss.... follow me"

And off we go. I ask where the car is, did he forget which level it was on, was this the wrong side?

"No.... Wrong Car Park."

So cutting a long story short we find the car (a green Laguna) and off we go. Out of the car park..." Er boss, do you have any change?" ... and out towards London .

And I start to relax again. I know we're heading in the right direction. I can almost taste the room service. I can almost see the bar.

"So where are you staying Boss?"

The Strand Palace Hotel, I reply... did he not receive the details from the car company?

"Ah... yes. I lost them"

Left them on the wrong car park I suppose. Well it's easy enough; the hotel is on The Strand ... you know how to get there. Right?

“Er.... sure Boss."

So we continue into London and I start to recognize certain sights. I pass comment on this and say that I have a fair idea where I am.

"Great... this is good Boss.... you know the way to Sprand?"

Good Lord.

“Don't worry Boss, I will ask Policeman."

So we stop and my highly talented driver asks for directions from a Panda Car. I consider holding up a note indicating that I'm being held against my will but I suppress it just in time.

“Thank you Boss! ... I know where hotel is."

And strike me down if he didn't. We proceeded directly (almost) to the Strand and I pointed out the Strand Palace Hotel up ahead, my guide nodded furiously and expertly pulled into the entrance of the Savoy .

"This your Hotel"

YES! I leapt from the car vowing to walk the rest of the way. Grabbing my bags I thanked my guide for the evening's entertainment.

"You happy with ride?"

A+ for effort I tell him and sprint off into the night. Only to hear the words,
"I meet you here in 2 days time Boss!"

I just keep on running...

Continued Here...