There is a terrific thunderstorm at around 2 am in Manchester which means I am already awake when the alarm goes off at 2:30, so I am in reception in plenty of time for the 3 am transfer bus. It arrives, and the driver says there will be a few minutes wait as he has several passengers, do I want to wait in the bus or the hotel?
I say I might as well get on now – he checks my room number, and decides he can take me now, so off we set. The rain has abated to a light drizzle, and he manages to avoid parking next to a puddle when he drops me off with the helpful directions of “through the door, turn left and then left again” – although it would have been more helpful if he’d included “then right” between the two left turns… None the less, I soon find departures, and the Air Portugal desk, which is as fa r away as it is possible to be in the same terminal and doesn’t open until 3:35. I wander over anyway, to find someone has beaten me there and is lying across the four chairs placed nearby. He is not asleep and when I approach, he moves up to make room for me (and subsequently for further arrivals). I suspect he may not actually be waiting for a flight, but just dossing down in a warm, dry terminal, but I may be wrong.
As more people turn up and start to actually form a queue I get up to join them, happy to take around 3rd or 4th place, but they insist I go first as I was there before them. It’s nice to see we still have our sense of fair play and the rules of queueing! Check in is painless, and my bags are checked all the way through to Horta, so I head off for security. Cameras have to be removed both from hand luggage and their own camera cases, which seems a bit excessive to pass through an x-ray machine, and necessitates an amount of unpacking and repacking, but otherwise no problems, and once I am through the duty-free shop (which is impossible to bypass) I enter the departure area in search of breakfast.
The food options seem sparse, (and half of what there is are shut) until I realise there is an upper floor with more choices. There is a Giraffe, which is a brand I know (and have used in the past at Heathrow) but they are currently closed and are busy setting up. “We open at 4” I am told, so I wander over to the Grain Loft, which is open, and does a similar breakfast slightly cheaper, so I go there instead (sorry Giraffe, you snooze, you lose).
The flight is half empty – glad I didn’t decide to pay extra to not have anyone sitting next to me as there isn’t in any case. I might have considered paying extra in order to not have a small crying baby sat directly behind me though…
The flight is slightly late in arriving at Lisbon, but with an 8+ hour wait for my connection, this is no big deal. I had noted that 10 years ago when I was last here, Lisbon Airport offered a free 30-minute internet connection that I never managed to connect to. They have obviously upgraded since then as I have no problem connecting, and there is no time limit, so I fill my time with a mixture of web-surfing, reading, and eating and drinking before heading off for the departure gate.
People have already started queueing, and they are letting the “priority” boarders on first. There is a bit of a delay, then then the priority queue starts moving while the rest of us wait. Then three people, rather than proceeding down to the bus, step aside next to the boarding gate desk. There is then a further hold up while the all the staff are busy on phones and running up and down the stairs. Eventually a group of passengers also reappear back up the stairs, and in two or three groups, exit back into the terminal. The people in the front of the queue talk to the gate staff (in Portuguese I assume, they are too far away for me hear), then report back in English to those of us behind that the weather is too bad in Horta to take a fully laden plane, so no bags will be taken today, they will all follow tomorrow. Additionally, five passengers must also delay until then, but they believe volunteers have already been found. (No official announcement is made either at the gate or on the plane, which is pretty full).
The flight is a bit bumpy in places, but not exceptionally so, and there does seem to be a strong wind as we turn to approach the runway, but the landing is smooth and incident free.
We are given leaflets in baggage reclaim explaining the “lost luggage” procedures, so a quick exit. (It is only later that I realise that although I cleared immigration in Lisbon, I haven’t gone through customs anywhere). There is a taxi waiting for me, which drops me off at Hotel Horta (a different hotel to the one I stayed in last time, which temporarily confuses me), and just as I am checking in Lisa arrives – she had been caught out by the quick transit through the airport! Apparently there have been several cases of bags being held over in Lisbon this year, and no one can really understand why.
We drive down to Almoxarife for dinner, to discover a local festival, with a brass band and street dancing outside a church on the way.