So proud of myself having made it to the depths of Surrey and Gatwick via public transport that I was lulled into a sense of false security.

Happily marched up to the counter and the BA gate warden with my pass and passport to be asked for my visa,momentarily I thought the cheeky tart meant my credit card,but no….I told her I had done the exact same thing last year,no problem,was told visa requirements change all the time and it was my responsibility to know them…I was spitting,told her that I had six months in uk on my passport then it changed to I needed a return ticket from Spain…she hauled me out of the queue and made me sit in the naughty seat just beyond the barrier from where I hurled comments. I produced my e ticket showing my date of return to nz…no chance…she gets on the phone,security man man and passing manager, get in on the act (my name is whatsit and I do whatsit)so, was my reply , get me on that damn plane. Mr security guard demands my name and is about to start searching for my bag to throw it and me out,when the word comes through that I am allowed on,with about ten minutes to go.Final shot was being told the Spanish would probably send me back.
Quietly /mentally wet myself all the way to Seville.
Customs hardly even glanced at my passport. Cow at the counter….causing all that angst.

In a drearyroom , which is smelly and had a sticky floor plus THOSE sheets all for 300 per night-Easter!!!! At least I am in Spain.
It’s hot…a day getting my bearings….