Thanks to the ever-reliable French air-traffic controllers, our flight home to Manchester has been CANCELLED. The ever-helpful SleasyJet offered us an alternative flight in just over 48 hours time—to London, not Manchester—but pointedly refused to guarantee that it would actually fly.
So Jen and I are currently sipping free drinks in the business class lounge at Venice Marco Polo Airport, awaiting our hastily booked Lufthansa flights home—via Munich.
Jason Bourne never has to put up with this crap.
We are living in the future.