It was one of those strange days that we knew was going to last for more than 24 hours. With a late afternoon flight, we didn’t need to leave home until nearly lunchtime. Having got everything in place and finding ourselves ready to go well ahead of time, we thought there was no point in hanging around any further. The car was loaded and off we went.

Thankfully, the motorway wasn’t too busy.

Our flight was scheduled for 5.10pm so we headed straight for check in, feeling hungry and ready for something to eat!

Everything seemed to be on time and according to plan.

Once on the plane, we settled in, glad to find the new “club suites” set up. But it didn’t take long before it was apparent that we weren’t going to be leaving on time and the Captain came on with an explanation. Some people had not boarded as expected and their luggage had to be removed. This could take half an hour or so. An hour later, he returned to explain that now, we’d lost our scheduled flightpath and with busy skies this afternoon, he was trying to secure an alternative.

He was clearly successful in doing that, for an hour and a half later than scheduled, we took off in an easterly direction, turning around and heading on a really weird routing but eventually making our way towards the Atlantic over the southern coast of Ireland.

For the next six and a half hours I passed the time knitting, eating, drinking, reading and watching TV. I spotted the Banshees of Inisherin on the film menu and watched it, following our friend’s recommendation. However, when it finished, I felt that I needed to allow what I’d seen to percolate a little…I wasn’t quite sure what I thought!

Even with a five hour time difference, it was bedtime by the time we got there, feeling delighted that we decided to stay overnight at the airport hotel here rather than try to go on further right now. It was definitely one of those occasions when it was better not to think what time it was at home, but simply to go with the flow.

Literally and metaphorically speaking, that is.

Yes, we were wide awake at 2am but were glad to turn over and go back to sleep. Again at 4am. At 5am we decided “enough” and put the coffee on.

Time for the next stage.

Thankfully, this part proved easier than we imagined. First step, change terminal using the small shuttle train, the platform for which seemed to be linked to the hotel.

By the time we found our way to the right place, one was just leaving.

But with trains arriving every couple of minutes, that didn’t matter one bit. We just caught the next one.

We were surprised to find ourselves in one of several small compartments rather than a large open carriage, chatting to the couple who had boarded at the same time as us; “Are you coming or going?”, they asked. A bit of both was our answer as we explained we were in transit - as were they. Except we were connecting to another domestic flight and they were en route to Zanzibar via Addis Ababa….

A good job it’s not a competition, eh?

This terminal was somewhat quieter than yesterday’s international arrivals hall, thankfully.

We said as much to the cheerful check in clerk who was looking forward to going home shortly. Finishing work for the day at 10am must feel good, we said - except she’d been on duty since 2am!

All checked in and free of our heavy bags, we made our way to the lounge. Another security process to follow, a little more waiting around and another day of going places.

Another day of noticing interesting things - here, a sign in ten languages, only three of which I had heard.