Once again, the cheapo airline has the most violent colors.
Vueling is owned by Iberian Air as well as British Airways, and they use the Jetstar idea of pay for your carry on to minimize overhead bin space.
However, they do something I’ve never seen… instead of the melee exiting the plane, you’re excused by rows of five.
Until you’re excused, sit your arse down.
For those who thought to ignore the instructions, a flight attendant was stalking the aisle, telling off those who mistakenly believed the rules didn’t apply to them. I don’t know if it was more efficient, but I sure left the airplane in a better mood.
Last minute shopping before we return to the states… had to head back to the flat as I left because I’d only brought one shopping bag and Beloved has prohibited me from purchasing any more.
I went to PoundLand. It’s a mix of the 99c Only Store and Food 4 Less, with a fair amount of Dollar Tree thrown in. Their chocolate section is amazeballs. The same choccies as everywhere else but at like 1/3 less than anywhere else.
I loaded my cart with a silly amount of chocolate as the family likes their share, then wandered the store a bit to see if there was anything else irresistible. I turned the corner… and…
I stumbled into the Promised Land.
They had Christmas confectionary already in stock. Holy cats.
The end total was £102. Oops. God love Beloved, whenever I charge on Apple Pay or our credit cards, she gets an alert. I can’t buy a bottle of water without her immediately knowing about it.
I usually spend a lot when returning home, but this was the first time I’ve tipped the century mark. However, it’s all about inflation, you know. Everything costs more. 😇
Using a box the rather shell-shocked clerk kindly provided for me, I was able to get everything batched up and ready for the trek back to the car. Three bags and a box later, I was staggering a bit under the weight of the sugar.
I’d parked in the “Old Police Station parking lot”. It has potholes you can bathe in. There’s an overgrown weedy lot right next door, and to say it looks a bit sketchy is an understatement. It looks a LOT sketchy.
But, it’s only £1.80/hour, which is CHEAP. Just like me.
As I waddled over there, I was a bit worried about being the victim of a mugging. Made it okay, but realized the little hatchback we rented was sans the trunk cover because we’d picked up Blondie the day before and we needed it out so we could transport all her luggage.
Crap. I still wanted to go to the grocery. Sighed and put the booty in the back seat where it was out of the sun.
I shot into Waitrose, the snooty grocery (think Gelsons if you’re in LA). Asked an employee for location of fishpaste.
He looked puzzled. “Ahhh… I’m not sure, madom. Let me take you to the fish department.”
I raised an eyebrow. No, dear, like salmon paste and chicken paste? For sandwiches? In little glass jars?
He again frowned. “I have never heard of such a thing.”
Where were you raised, you didn’t have paste sandwiches?! All the icky leftover bits bundled into a grinder and out comes this horrific yet delicious mush? Smear it on buttered bread, it’s a damn fine meal.
He also elevated an eyebrow and kept going.
I followed. We got to the tins of roe and exotic jarred fishies and there, tucked away, was a small row of paste pots. Pilchards and tomato, beef, and salmon.
Pass on the first two, grabbed a salmon.
Hah! See, you DO have it!
“Oh… I failed to understand you wanted pâté. My apologies.”
Okay, no where on this planet is there pâté that costs 95p a jar. However, there is fishpaste, overpriced at that amount. Normally you can get it for 80p or less. But this was snooty fishpaste.
Examining Misadventures 