Well I arrived a little after 4pm on Thursday into Geneva airport, at which point I suddenly panicked that I was supposed to be at Grenoble or another airport of equal distance to the Alps.
Being the last minute, organiser that I am, I’d completely forgotten to get anyone’s phone numbers and so the only idea I had that I was going to be picked up was a faint memory of an email I’d read. (When you get to my age, and you’ve been brought up on things made in aluminium pots and pans, faint memories are better than no memory)! Half an hour of passive smoking (that’s right I’ve given up), and pacing up and down the arrival lounge, I spot a face I think I recognise. This could either become slightly embarrassing or get me out of the airport. I walked up slightly behind the person and called…
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