I don’t know how I offended St Eithne to get chucked off my flight back from Dublin but my Aer Maidens got me back on board as they always do.
And here’s me who says a prayer to all the Irish saints every night.
Those who have flown on Aer Lingus, Ireland’s national airline carrier, may have observed that the planes are all called after saints and are thus blessed.
But Eithne’s wings (or another part of her body) showed signs of wear and tear.
And poor dear she had to rerouted back to Ireland.
Midway through our flight to Glasgow.
Hostess with mostest
Of course, this being a chatty Ireland-Scotland flight and me being stupid tired after five days in LA, the City of Angels, I hadn’t heard the announcement.
And woke up with Baile Atha Cliath looming up in huge letters in front of me.
We were back on hallowed Dublin land again.
Of course that is usually a winner with me and I was hoping that we’d be grounded long enough for me to get a comp night at the airport.
Alas, Aer Lingus had it in hand and got us back in the air.
With a special shout-out for our Aer Maiden Alexandra who kept our spirits up with her smile and easy charm.
And looked after my take-on luggage while I headed for the rest room.
Airline angels
One of Eithne’s fellow angels, Sarab, took the heavy load, carrying us on our wings.
And having us back in the air within three hours.
And back to catch our bus from Glasgow Airport and train to Edinburgh Waverley.
Where my own little angel, Herself, was waiting to pick me up and bring me back to Chez Murty.
All despite an interrupted sleep.
I will pay for it but hope the souvenir does the trick.
Or my suitcases will be back out on the garden pronto.