Canada, Episode 1: The wrath of Teresa

Phew, it's been a pretty mental week. I apologise for the lack of posting in recent days, I imagine it must have been a very tough period for all of you. But worry not, your saviour's back and I have the first update on my quest to conquer Canada.

Although there are six of us in total travelling to Canada, myself and Nobbly Stylez were the first two members of the party to depart last Wednesday. Being kind sorts, we've agreed to take on the responsibility of finding a house for all the other goons.

The flight over from Shannon to Heathrow on Wednesday morning was pretty uneventful but we'd great excitement upon arriving in London when Nobbly threw a wobbly after realising he'd forgotten his Visa forms and may not be allowed board the plane.

Thankfully, however, Nobbly had photocopied the forms and although the originals were on his kitchen table in Limerick, he had brought the copies. A burly prick of a security guard told us that there was no way we'd be allowed on to the plane with a copy but a much more shapely BA receptionist told us we should be alright.

So with no small amount of trepidation we approached the check-in desk but sure enough my travelling companion was allowed on. Although I had been looking forward to that extra little bit of leg room, I was glad that he got on as it would mean a bit of company for the nine hour flight.

After two minutes in our seats, I was even more grateful for Nobbly's company as a shockingly rude and miniscule old lady made it clear from the moment our arses landed next to hers that she was not happy with the seating arrangements.

Having no grasp of English whatsoever and only able to converse in Hindi, it was hard for the air hostesses to understand what request she was making when we sat down but after a few hand singles and eyes thrown up to heaven, it was clear she wanted to be moved.

Now we hadn't said a word to the lady, I hadn't boxed her in the ear as I slipped into my seat, Nobbly didn't knee her in the teeth while putting his bags into the overhead compartments so we were shocked that she had already decided we weren't worthy of sitting in the same row as her.

Despite her remonstrations, there wasn't a space left to be had on the plane and she was told that she would just have to put up with us and us with her. She made one more request to be moved before take off and another straight away after, at which point the air hostesses seemed to venture down our aisle far less often.

Safe in the knowledge that the lady wouldn't be able to tell her us her name and wouldn't even want to if she could, we decided to call her Teresa because of her uncanny similarity to the far less rude Mother Teresa.

Thankfully, Teresa stayed asleep for most of the flight with the only drawback being that she was in the aisle seat and I"ve a bladder the size of an undergrown peanut. Inevitably I would need to go to the toilet, which would undoubtedly provoke the wrath of the sleeping beauty beside me when I asked her to get up.

After about two and a half hours - a new record for me - I decided that the floodgates would have to open and Teresa would have to hop it unless she wanted this journey to become considerably more uncomfortable for all of us.

But then Nobbly pointed out to me that, being a healthy young fella with feline-like agility, I could try and vault over Teresa without waking her. Using the back of the seat in front of her and the back of her own seat to support my body I could swing over her.

After sizing up the situation, I reckoned that this was a challenge I was up for. And it very nearly wasn't an absolute catastrophe.

The first stage of the vault was fine, I steadied myself on the two seats and lifted my legs safely over Teresa without making any contact. Unfortuantely, however, when I landed on the far side I lifted my hand from the back of her seat far too quickly, making the seat and its occupant shoot forward violently like a catapult.

Teresa woke up to find me standing on one side of her and Nobbly on the other with one leg on top of the seat in readiness to attempt the same ridiculous stunt that had woken her. Unsurprisingly this time, she made yet another request to be moved and was once again told that she had no option left to her.

We decided not to try the Teresa-vault again, instead opting to just put up with the snorts of disgust she made every time we asked her to move so we could use the facilities.

I considered asking her if we could swap numbers in case she wanted to meet up another time when we landed but decided that she probably wouldn't get the joke.

Another update to come in a few days folks, talk to you all again soon.

The Hoge