Well,
its definitely that time of the year again . We're off on our travels. And so far….. things have gone nearly according to plan. I'm not sure if you know, but when we book a flight to St Maarten, we always book a return at the same time; its usually a lot cheaper than a one
way. So, the return was booked, hmmm, I suppose eleven months into the future; which took us to the end of July. Well, and this is quite true, two days before we were due to travel, we received an email from Air France advising that on the exact day we were due to travel,
they've decided to have a strike!!! And to make things worse, it was going to last at least a week!

'Oh dearie me' I thought….. or words along those lines! Those bloody French are at it again!!! Typical! Now what! To hell with them! Lets change airlines. So we dashed off to the airport and were first in the queue to discuss our predicament with them. Bloody Air Frog! (You can see my true colours coming out now can't you!)
'Well Messieur…. Zere ees nosseeng we can do?'
'Think harder! There must definitely be something! Staring intently into her eyes .
'Well…. You can always fly wiz our ozzer airline?….. Yes?'
'Which airline?'
'KLM?'
'When?'
'Tomorrow?'

And as we had so many things to do in London decided to take it. So instead of it being a quick overnight flight in a Boeing 777 from St Maarten to Paris then a quick change at Charles de Gaulle airport to London; the KLM Jumbo named aptly 'City of Johannesburg, (where I was
born), was going to go in completely the wrong direction on the first leg of the flight. To a to a small island off the South American coast. To Curacao of all places where it refuelled and took on more passengers.

Now, for those who know about take off's and landings from St Maarten, theJumbo is the monarch of the skies. And it's worth going on to Utube to watch the majestic aircraft skip just a very few feet over the heads of bathers; missing (hopefully), the very low fence and
immediately hitting the runway and all the brakes and reverse thrust being slammed on really hard. The alternative to this happening is you over run the runway and end up in the lagoon for
your first quick, but unexpected swim . When you take off, the pilot gently coaxed the big bird, colloquially and lovingly known as 'The Pig' right to the end of the runway. You can see the wide eyes of holiday makers and plane enthusiasts clinging to the low perimeter
wire fence. Usually, the pilots wave at the holiday makers with a look that says, “OK
guys…. Get ready.” So with the plane backed up as far as it can get, and literally within thirty yards of the gawking clingons, he pulls up the hand brake up as hard as he can. Then with his right hand slowly moves the throttle to full; and when the engines are screaming with all their might, he simply releases the brake. The aircraft starts its journey… takes off very majestically… turns hard right… (to miss the mountain; always a good idea); and is off
on it's way.
 
Behind it though, there is what can only be called carnage. The 'clingons' are completely sand blasted. Those who had the common sense to let go and coil up into the foetal position are the lucky ones. Most of the others in the way of the mighty jet blast from the four engines have
been blown into the sea . And this is what millions of people from all around the world come here to do.

About three hours into the flight and all was going well. The usual plastic tasting food had been served; the first of the movies had been watched when suddenly, out of the blue; or should I say out of the dark night sky the Jumbo suddenly shuddered and there was a loud bang. Oh S- - T. I'm floating out of my seat as the plane seems be falling out of the sky with the noises of all sorts of objects being flung about. Thoughts go quickly through your head. None of them pretty good! Grab the seat belt and try pull yourself back: No! Grab a part of the
chair that is firm and pull yourself down. It's much quicker than trying to to work the straps and then the buckle. Yes. Do that. I'm back in the chair. Hold on to something steady and pull Dyana back down. Yes. Its worked. We're both in our seats. NOW do the straps and buckle. Huge rattling from all over the falling plane. I now there is about two minutes or so till we plunge headlong into the sea! S—T! Not a great thought . …. Screaming passengers
definitely not making the situation and better. Not that we were in a good place in the first instance. The altimeter on the screen giving the planes flight information showing our height
dropping rapidly. A million thoughts still going through my head. Some of them good… some of them… well… not so… in fact, yes, pretty bad really. Something is happening to the stability of the aircraft. The rate of descent is slowing on the screen in front... Yes. The captain and crew were obviously beginning to stabilise the Jumbo aircraft. And finally after what seemed like an indeterminate amount of time we were on a level course again with all sorts of detritus strewn about the cabin.
'Ladies and Gentlemen,' the captains usually calm voice was now definitely not that. 'We must have hit an air pocket; or something that did not show up on radar. I'm terribly sorry. Is there a doctor on board please?'
We'd dropped a couple of thousand feet in a really short time. And a few minutes later, the Captain came round personally speaking to each and every passenger. A really really good move eschewing confidence in him leading us out of the dire situation we were in. From then on, I think everyone kept their seat belt on.
Finally arriving in Amsterdam; changing aircraft and finally after a very long nineteen hours…. Finally into London.

London is just great. So much to do and see, but I'm sure most of you have been there, so will move on to our next port of call, the wonderful small island of Jersey off the French coast in the English Channel. I will come back to London on my next blog because we did some really
cool stuff there. Jersey is quite a small island, only forty five square miles, but everywhere is filled with flowers; in full bloom. The other thing it is noted for are its amazing tides. Where we live, the difference between high and low tide is probably no more than a foot and a half…. At the most. In Jersey, a normal tide is twenty six feet, and can get even bigger on a spring tide. So much so, that when the tide goes out, and you want to have a swim, you may have to
walk at least a mile just to get to the water. In all the small harbours, many boats have what look like crutches on either side so that when the water disappears, the boat can rest vertically on their keels and crutches. Lots of other owners simply allow their boats to rest on the sandy mud. Hope you like the pictures.

Now,
on the island every year, there is a festival called the Battle of the flowers. Each float being covered by a mass of flower petals. In fact each petal is simply glued on to a sheet of something to make up the design. So this year, instead of doing the daytime performance,
decided to do the night parade instead. Along with the traditional pomp and splendour bands, (something the UK is so professional at,) come these wonderful, fantastic, stupendous floats. Please click the pictures as they turn into short videos and you will see what I mean.
The finale is usually a giant fireworks display. This year something extra. And something I've never ever seen before. They brought in two special aircraft. The fuselages were all illuminated as were the wings. And as they flew in very close tandem; each shot out fireworks
from all over their wings. Completely spectacular. I am so sorry that the camera was quite unable to catch the spectacle of this, but hope you like the other pictures and videos.

Right now we're sitting in the airport waiting to go to Holland. Lets hope nothing happens on this flight.