I rose at 6 am and after breakfasting with sister, I took the 7.15 bus back to Schiphol airport. The railways were back to 80% of normal service, and I was able to make good time to Arnhem. It took me an hour and a half, only 15 minutes longer than normal, to cover the 75 miles. I only had to wait for 5 minutes for the no 21 bus, which wound its way through northern Arnhem, past large piles of dirty, swept up snow, which covered the bus stops. Alighting from the bus in my dad’s home town landed me in a foot of snow. I reached my father’s house at 10 in the morning. In the afternoon, we went for an amble in the forests and the Heathlands outside the village. It was calm, no wind, but when we came into the open Heathlands the wind did put in an appearance and made it feel very cold. The road that ends on the edge of the moorland was covered in snow, and had not been used for a few days. Normally, dozens of people come here every day to walk their dogs. On warm days, the smell can be quite unpleasant. A jogger overtook us on the cyclepath (only used by a few people since the snow fell). Did I say there was 8 inches of snow on the ground? Sunset was at 4.30, an hour later than I am used to. Although the day started misty, if not foggy, the sun came out at 3.30, giving us a clear end to the day. I had a very early night, as I was completely whacked.
Another journey from hell, although not quite as bad as last February. It started straightaway at 6.30 am, when I was advised by text that my Glasgow to London flight had been cancelled. Trying to get through to BA by phone was impossible, and their website did not permit me to change the flight. The taxi took me to Stornoway Airport, where the check-in staff wished me good luck on my journey. An elderly lady, from the same street in Stornoway where I stay, was talking to me as she was due to go on the same cancelled flight. Her destination was Dusseldorf in Germany; mine was Amsterdam, 150 miles to the west. After due consideration and discussion, she decided to abandon the journey; her age did not look kindly upon waiting at airports for long periods of time. My 8.30 flight did not take off until 10.00, as the aircraft had been snowbound at Inverness the night before. After a 50 minute across snowcovered Scotland, we landed in Glasgow. I immediately went to the BA desk to reschedule my journey. I was now going to Birmingham (England) at 15.10, thence on to Amsterdam, where I could arrive at 20.00. Well, after having lunch and reading my paper, I went to the gate. There I was able to look outside, where it was snowing hard. The flight, with FlyBe, was put off until 18.35. That would land me in Birmingham, without any onward connection to Amsterdam. So, I rescheduled again (try to get your baggage back out of the system) and was now flying KLM to Amsterdam at 19.35. The snow closed the airport until about 7 pm. In the meantime, I had some dinner (chili con carne). I sat down at gate 27C, where Easyjet passengers were effing and blinding about their delayed flight, which was finally transferred to gate 10. That was not easy on the elderly and the infirm who needed a wheelchair. The airport obliged. My plane took off at 8.15, 9 hours after I had been due to take off from Glasgow. The runway and apron had been cleared of snow, and the journey to Amsterdam proceeded well. We landed at 10.20 local time, just over an hour after departing Glasgow. You pass along the east coast of England, able to discern Great Yarmouth, Lowestoft and Norwich, with London a distant glimmer on the horizon, 120 miles to the south. At Schiphol, there was no onward train to Arnhem, so I rang up my sister, who lives a few miles away, and jumped on the bus there. After catching up on events, I bedded down on an inflatable mattress, surrounded by bemused cats.
This is the archive of The Shell Gallery blog, which was active between 2008 and 2018. It is dedicated to the memory of my mother, who died in May 2008, and to that of my father, who passed away in August 2022. 
