Nice... Nice place, shame about the trip
As the check-in lady from Easy Jet said "Passports please", it began to dawn on me that this might not be one of my better trips. We had set off early but on reaching the street realised the traffic was at a complete standstill, Forget taking a taxi, I said, picking up my backpack and all my camera gear, the tube is just about 500 yards away In this ordinary way, started a day of days! On the Underground I heard that nearly muffled voice from the Guard, "Due to signal failure, all trains are stopping at Edgware Road" .
We staggered across various roads trying to get a taxi along with what
seemed half of the tube passengers with the same idea. Never mind said
I, St Pancras Station is near here and if we get there before the rest,
we will be bound to get a cab. My friend looked at me. Next time I’ll
meet you at the Airport was her only comment. 
Tourrettes Sur Loup is a small medieval town just a twenty-minute drive from Nice in the south of France and my partner and I were taking a short five day break from the gloomy November in London to stay with some friends. It is a small sleepy little town with reasonable priced, picturesque restaurants hidden amongst its ancient streets, an ideal place to recharge ones batteries. A long weekend, a short hop away in France, should be no problem. </<p>p> Finally, we spilled out of a cab and rushed, or as much as one can rush with all our kit, up to a guard, Which platform for Luton Airport? He looked at us, shook his head sympathetically, Wrong Kings Cross, you need Kings Cross Thames Link, 500 yards down the road. I turned and looked at my Companion, she looked back at me in a less than loving way, Just don’t say never mind, in fact, say nothing. It stated to rain and just when I thought nothing else could go wrong and we were 50 yards or so from the station, a coach pulled in, students piled out and we were about 39th in the queue for the tickets.
Moment of truth! We had special discount vouchers for the train but
I knew that this wasn’t the time to save money and wait. So, full
price from a machine and by-pass the queue. We had plenty of time despite
having to catch a bus after leaving the train. At the check in, I waited
for them to look at my companion’s Passport. What with a French
name, an Italian passport and being Brazilian, it was bound to take a
few moments. 
Your Passport sir, said the lady from Easy Jet: That is when my world collapsed. Slowly, it dawned on me that my passport was still pinned to the notice board at my parent’s house, where we had spent the night. Pinned so as not to be forgotten, next to the Airline information pack and that I had not forgotten.
Time seemed to be standing still as I assimilated that fact and decided what to do next. Luciene, I’ve forgotten my passport I said. She looked round at me and very slowly in her best English said, I’m going for coffee, while you sort things out. Then commenced a scene reminiscent of the ‘Keystone Cops’ with me rushing here and there, phoning my father to try and arrange things, all as soon as possible or faster. Finally a bike was dispatched to Luton with my Passport and would probably be there within the hour. And within the hour it had to be, as the flight was leaving in 58 minutes. As I withdrew £85-00 from the hole in wall to pay for the bike, this was no longer a cheap trip and if I was not careful, no trip at all.
There was no putting off going to the coffee shop and facing Luciene and telling her that this man who said he travelled so much, had blown it on our first little holiday together. We drank our coffee with little conversation as the countdown to the deadline approached. I scurried back and forth from the check-in, Easy Jet’s desk phone, speaking to the Bike Company and to my friend finishing her third coffee. By now this small, friendly departure area all seemed to be holding their breath, as anxious as I was for the first sign of the Bike. We remained the last two passengers to board and only five minutes to go.
My partner joined me at the check in, Next time we meet at other end she whispered in my ear lovingly! I ran outside ready to wave the rider down, the thought of him missing me at last moment gave me another dose of stress. Two minutes to go, the check-in lady looked at her watch and I hurried outside for the last time. A roar of the motor bike as it arrived, the squeal of brakes as I waved him down, thrust money in his hand, grabbed my Passport and said thanks all at the same time. Back into the departure lounge, I ran up to the desk, waving my passport in the air, with only thirty seconds to go.
We had made it, we were through and the whole place sighed with relief. Collapsing on the plane and ordering a whisky, I said, l;.The rest of the holiday had better go better than today. My companion looked at me you’ re right about that and by the way, give me your passport.