Living it up in sunny Spain!
Speaking as someone who is just back from an amazing trip to Alicante, I would really recommend anyone who is thinking of booking a holiday to just go for it. I have really missed the sound of suitcase wheels gliding along the airport floor, browsing around the duty free and the burst of hot air that greets you in your destination country.
That is of course if you actually make your flight. Listening to the reports from Dublin airport yesterday and seeing the queues on social media would not entice you to step on a plane. Staffing issues seem to be to blame, as there was reportedly not enough to cater for the 50,000 people who travelled this weekend. Significant queues for dropping off bags, check-in and security screening meant over 1,000 people missed their flights. I wish the very best of luck to anybody travelling next weekend when 100,000 people are expected to pass through the airport.
I flew to Spain from Belfast International last Tuesday morning, and I honestly couldn’t recommend it highly enough. I parked the car in the long-stay carpark for £38.84 (about €46) for five nights. Once I arrived, a two-minute walk brought me from the carpark to the airport. I had no bags to drop off but there was no queue, and I was through security in about 10 minutes. I think I have only ever been delayed in an airport once (it was in Dublin) and it is one of the most frustrating things. Thankfully none of my flights have ever been cancelled but I imagine a lot of people across the country are left feeling very disappointed today.
I flew to Alicante with EasyJet. Although there was a 15-minute delay before taking off, there were no other issues. The flight to Alicante lasted just over two hours and I was delighted to have slept for the duration. We landed and met the others who had flown in from Dublin with no problems. We wasted no time hanging about the airport, it was around 26 degrees outside and I was itching to get out.
We got into our taxi and gave the location of where we were staying. It was a villa about 8km outside of Alicante city. The driver had never actually heard of the place, which set off alarm bells in my head. I am definitely spending way too much time searching for accommodation these days, but I was fearful we had been scammed. We drove around for a while, trying to get in contact with the woman the villa was booked with. There wasn’t a peep out of her. This added to my fears and everybody else’s.
I was starting to think how 19 of us were going to get accommodation for four nights. We drove around for another while before eventually finding the right location. Finally, we arrived at the villa. The key was left in the letterbox, and we helped ourselves inside. It was stunning and had everything you could need. Best of all we had our own private pool. None of us delayed in dropping our stuff and leaping in. The feeling was just amazing.
The city of Alicante itself is stunning with loads of restaurants, bars and nightclubs. There were beautiful marble walkways along the sea and boats probably about the size of my house. There were cocktail bars along the sea front and ice-cream parlours galore, I was delighted to finally get a coconut ice-cream. My bounty loving self decided long ago that the best coconut ice-cream can only be gotten abroad.
The highlight of the holiday for me was the night Peter Barlow sent a glass of sangria over to my table. We got to a bar in a beautiful courtyard place. There were tables and chairs belonging to a few different bars. The conversation at the table turned to the people sitting across the way as one of the men looked vaguely familiar. An extremely devoted fan to Coronation Street, my mother never misses an episode. I grew up watching the trials and tribulations of Peter Barlow’s failed relationships, drinking problems and drama with his sister Tracey so, when I saw him sitting across the way, I knew him instantly. I really wanted a picture with him to send home, but I was too afraid to ask.
Luckily one of the lads at the table was not shy and took pleasure in mortifying me by roaring Christopher’s name. He then went over and told him I wanted a picture. I wanted the ground to swallow me but, to be fair, I probably wouldn’t have asked and I did get my picture. Chris was sitting with a full glass of sangria in front of him, which he didn’t want, as he was flying early the next morning. He insisted I take it but I gracefully declined. I went back to the table and, as I was sending my mam the photo, the glass of sangria landed in front of me. Could life get much better? Sipping Christopher Gascoyne’s sangria in Spain?
I really enjoyed the holiday, it was so nice to see my friends before heading off to Belgium. By the time this is published, it will be the first day of my new job. Feelings of both dread and excitement are consuming me at the same time, I’m just praying I don’t miss my flight.
* Gemma Good is from Killeshandra and a second year journalism student in University of Limerick.
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