The time on my phone read 02:15. The taxi was coming at 3 and I awoke, dizzy and drained. I had been drugging myself up on Benylin and pain killers, flu plus and anaesthetic throat lozenges. I had been swigging from the bottle all day and now I was feeling really awful. We took a taxi from Bushey to Gatwick. I was drifitng in and out of sleep. We headed to the check in queue. Walking round the ropes, round and round I was taken back to the time I had over-indulged on a trip to Holland and was struggling to stand up at Passport control in Calais. Anyway, back to the present. I was dizzy, white, sweating and needed my freakin Benylin! I had to duck under the rope, run to the toilet and, well there ya go. Start as ya mean to go on!
Skip forward three hours and the plane is setting off. EasyJet, the pioneers of budget air travel. Always remember big ole Stelios on that programme talking about his company. What started off as a routine take off procedure turned into the biggest bloody shit storm of money making opportunities. The EasyJet flight crew should have been called the EasyJet Commercial Team. Every few minutes they were selling something. I remembered the words of one of the staff "We hope you have a relaxing flight!" How the fuck can I relax when you're asking me if I want a drink, a snack, Hello or The Times, booze, fags, perfume, gadgets, more snacks, more drinks, lottery tickets then...a collection for UNICEF. The charity collection was almost delivered as an after-thought. I searched through the in-flight magazine for any mention of UNICEF. It was on a page towards the back after the posture pedic chair adverts and DIY Shagging. What a joke.
Anyway, we arrived in Marrakech and it was about 9.30. The heat wasn't so imposing, it being only 25c. It soon heated up when we paid 15 Euros to travel 3 miles in a taxi.
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