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Airport story
Had to pick up my parents, brother and wife at Heathrow once. They'd been to Malaysia. They would be in arrivals around 9am.

Overslept to 8.30am with a 2-hour drive ahead of me. Twas the days before mobiles so they just waited. Got to Heathrow and realised it was quite a big place - er... with more than one place for people to arrive in. Parked at terminal one and proceeded to run around the terminals until I found them. For the record, Terminal 3. And that's a long run. It was now 11.30am. Nobody looked happy.

Returned to the car with them, trying to smooth things over. No keys. Lost them running between terminals. Returned to terminal three to check lost property. No joy.

Remembered I had a hidden key in a magnetic box tucked under the wheel arch (do people still use those?). Phew! Got going and then realised no petrol and it was a different key to open the cap. So had to gingerly drive to my brother's who then had to follow us home to ensure we didn't run out of petrol.

Got home and thought the nightmare was over. No such luck. Nobody had a front door key and the back door had a key in the other side. Spent the next hour intricately turning the key in the other side of the back door in order to poke it out.

To this day, I remember looking at kitchen clock as we walked through the back door. 4.47.

I didn't ask for any holiday presents.
(Fri 3rd Mar 2006, 17:47, More)