The Longest Day
How on earth do people manage to keep secrets? I have a tale I have been busting to tell. I have held back because the final act has only just fallen into place. But now I can reveal all. I just needed the happy ending.
Let me take you back in time to moment when it was my clothing that was loose. At the ripe old age of 22 I qualified as a Physiologist ( we were called something else in those days and have since changed our title several times settling on the above for now). I was resplendent in my victory. I had, at last, made my way in the world. I had trained for something that would earn my crust. All those years of schooling and education had resulted in this moment. I could now cast all that education aside and start to live a life.
You see up until that point my whole life had always been working toward the next stage. Exams and such. Each group of exams was "important" because it gave you the right to proceed to the next set of exams. All the time not really being sure what was the point of it all. Well at last I had, in my eyes, got some sort of product. My qualification gave me the opportunity to get on with the rest of my life. As such I vowed that I was done with education. Of a formal variety. I had spent my whole life in education thus far and it was time to start living.
Life, of course is never that simple but it is always best to be a little optimistic.
And so it came to pass that the world crept up on yours truly and over took him, waving a hasty goodbye in the rear view mirror as it sped on to greater things.
In a vain attempt to creep into the 21st Century I have had to do something that I hoped I would never have to do again. Sit an exam.
It was a hasty decision. In that I made it quickly but not rashly. The exams for the British Society of Echocardiography (the initials are unfortunately BSE) are held only every 6 months. I had to get in quick because I wasn't waiting for the autumn. As I applied for it though I found there was only one venue left. Belfast! I have never been to Belfast before. Initially I figured that it was just too far away for me. But I thought again. I went onto a travel website (kayak.co.uk) and investigated flights to Belfast from Newcastle. The good news was that there were indeed flights to Belfast from Newcastle and for less than the price of a tank full of diesel. I checked the venue for the exam. A swanky hotel and country club (read golf!) not far from the airport.
So, dear reader, I went for it as they say. I booked my flight for the princely sum of £45 and booked the day off at work. I was quite looking forward to the trip, truth be told. The fly in the ointment was that the only flight that would get me to the exam on time was at 07:00. This obviously meant that I had to be at the airport sometime before hand. As the return flight wasn't until 20:30 that evening I had a long day ahead of me.
I had booked on Easyjet. Bless them! this video kind of explains an Easyjet/Ryanair trip
Yeah well you get my point!
The only part of the flying routine I had not encountered before was the free for all at loading. No prebooked seats. It actually worked pretty well. I got a nice seat next to a window. It wasn't a full flight so there was plenty of choice. It was a big day for Easy jet however. This was an Airbus A321. Not an A319!. It had a new livery too. Usually a white plane with Easyjet in big orange letters, instead it had a big orange plane with easy jet in big white letters! not bad huh? hope they sacked the marketing company who thought of that.
The flight was so short that the attendants didn't have time to serve any drinks instead they asked that if we wanted them we just had to ring our bell.
As we flew west the clouds dispersed and I was treated to a wonderful view of the west coast of Scotland but mostly Stranraer. When the coast of Northern Ireland hove into view I was struck by how small the fields were here. The drive for the super field had not come this way. The pilot seemed to be undecided as to which way to land. I prefer the version where he puts the landing gear down and lands on concrete. I mean a runway of course. The pilot seemed to be bitching about Belfast international not being very precise about which of their two lovely runways they wanted him to use. But land we did and we were soon turfed out into the arrivals hall. I was treated to a brilliant cloudless sky. Many of my flying compatriots and myself made straight for the direct bus into Belfast. I clambered atop the luxury double decker and took my seat for the journey. There is something special about double deckers and the view is better
Belfast was one of those places that used to be named at around the same time on the news programmes as Beirut and Soweto township and any other place where there was constant gunfire. The Troubles, as they were known, are now largely a thing of the past. Northern Ireland is a different place. This is not the place to document the Troubles. Ireland is now working toward a better future and so far so good.
As we wound our way through the rush hour traffic I found a city slowly waking up. As much as you can tell such a thing from the top deck of a double decker bus, it seemed like it was a place with a very strong sense of who and what it was. The city centre is largely rebuilt anew. However If you say that of many English cities you are not praising it. Something went very wrong with postwar architecture in England. The perceived need to be bold and cast off the old ways lumbered many a town with an ugly concrete edifice or two. But not here, the developments have largely been sympathetic but after all it is a shopping district.
My original plan had me going to the new Titanic Museum in Belfast. I found that the museum was just too far from the centre for my taste today. My schedule was not tight. It was only 09:00 and I didn't have to be at the exam hotel until about 1p.m.
Still, I was hungry so I set off looking for food. I had spied a cafe from the bus and made for it straight away. I would like to pass it's name onto you special people that bother to read my stuff, but I can't remember now and it isn't listed on Google or Google street map.
Suitably refreshed I wandered along the empty streets of Belfast. Rush hour was past, this is a time and place I don't see as a working man. I was surprised to see it so quiet but then most people are working at this time so who would be shopping?
This was the view that greeted me - minus the sun worshipers. The sun was bright and insistent. Being a man who spends his life in darkened rooms far removed from daylight it felt like a presence over my shoulder talking in my ear and revealing what I have been missing all this time. The only other person on the street was a man searching for discarded cigarette butts with a bit of life in them.
I found a tourist office and purchased some suitably cheesy Belfast memorabilia for the girls at work and my kids. I again considered visiting the Titanic museum, newly opened but was finding the streets of downtown Belfast suitably educational and refreshing. This was a different city to the one I saw on the news bulletins from my childhood. This was better. So much better
One of the things I had wanted to see was a structures known as Samson and Goliath.
As you can see they are gantry Cranes and as such were the biggest in the UK. They dominate the skyline.
you can see them from almost anywhere.
Soon it was time for a coffee break. Suitably refreshed from a large chain of coffee shops I felt I needed to make for the hotel and country club. I had no idea how long the bus back to the airport would take so I made for bus terminus. I became slightly lost and disorientated but as this was my first time in the city and I was not in a hurry I just enjoyed the experience. I don't get to do much travelling these days so you soak up what you can get.
I had a snooze on the bus. They seem to do that to me. I awoke just in time to bell the driver for my stop. It was in the village of Templepatrick. It is in solid countryside. I had used Google Earth to stake the place out and crossed the road to start the short journey. It was a pleasant afternoon and I was in no mood to arrive too hastily. The hotel itself was not a place that expected people to arrive on foot. The only way in was to perambulate along a narrow lane inside the grounds and leap onto the soft verge at the first sign of a taxi. My experience of taxi drivers is that they ask questions later and take no prisoners.
I felt very out of place as I rolled up to the front desk looking as though I were a person who hadn't slept well and had risen early to travel on a no frills airline. Which of course described me to a tee. I was in the wrong bit of the hotel. I was thus directed along a small dimly lit corridor (lest I should upset the paying guests!) until I arrived in the functions suite. The BSE had set up a registration desk so that is what I did and then settled into a comfy chair for some more zed's. I only hope I didn't dribble.
In time we were called forward to enter the exam room. After a short delay the clock was started and off we went. The delay was caused by an unknown examinee getting lost at the Leeds venue and being talked down over the phone by a moderator stood in front of me. Technology!
It was well that I had not been nervous before the start. It concerned me as I walked the streets of Belfast. I feel nerves help to concentrate your thoughts. When I set about revising for the exam I looked at the syllabus and decided that there was no way I was going to remember everything on it. So I selected the bits I thought I, as a sonographer ought to know. I shouldn't have tried to second guess the BSE!
As I studied the early questions on the paper I realised I had pretty much wasted 2 weeks of reading. The bits on the exam and the bit s iIhad read up on pretty much seemed to fit like 2 halves. I had read the half that wasn't on the paper! Fortunately it was a multiple choice so I could use an educated guess on the ones I wasn't sure about. In the event I was left scrabbling to get all the answers filled in before my hour was up.
Now here is a piece of human observation I found interesting. We all filed into the examination without so much as a grunt towards each other. This is not unusual I find. Trying not to be psyched out by an opponent! However afterwards we talked randomly and at length as though we were best buddies. I even broke that most holy of holy's (never talk to strangers in public toilets) and engaged a fellow examinee in a brief conversation about how absurd the exam had been. I was, it seemed in something of a minority. Bloody swots!
The second part was a video and answer session. Small bits of video and then time to scribble down answers. I was more comfortable here as it was just reporting echoes and that is what I do. However some of the questions started with "select the answer(s) that are most applicable...." Infuriatingly one or two of those types of questions had answers I would not have expected in a month of Sundays and selecting four "better than the others" seemed like choosing the impossible from the improbable.
Time up! An hour and a half went quickly. Especially as I was dying for the toilet.
Once again all social barriers were broken down and we all twittered excitedly to each other. That last sentence could cause confusion in the age of Twitter. We did not Tweet each other across the hall, I meant that we all chattered to each other using that out dated mode of communication - the voice box.
The gathering soon started to dissipate. I was rather hoping that we would all repair to the bar for a bit. I had 4 hours before my flight left and could stand a drink. A lad who been sat next to me before the exam offered me a lift to the airport in his hire car. Funny how different hospitals can be. I got a free day off. But this lad got sent over the day before, the evening at leisure in Belfast with expenses, hotel, hire car for the duration and his exam fees paid.
To be fair I did kind of slip in under the radar so to speak. I had sat the exam before but let the logbook part slip by. Long story. I was a bit afraid that my employers might encourage my colleagues to attend instead. So I got my application in first.
Anyway back to the airport. Or nearly, as my lift dropped into a gas station to fill up there was a brief reminder of the old days as a van marked "Bomb Disposal" flew past with blues and two's on.
We arrived safely at the return desk of the hire company but were left a little non plussed by the signage.
A hand written bollard poster instructed us to wait at this sign - DO NOT PROCEED (and leave your luggage in the car). But the whole site was empty. It all seemed a little suspicious. We wondered around to find anyone. A few minutes later and a car rolled up and out stepped the rental guy complete with an unintelligible Northern Irish accent. The reason for the sign was that he completed the vehicle check there and then and drove us to the terminal building in the car we arrived in. Very simple really!
For some reason, as we went through security, my hand luggage was selected for a random check. The security fella found that the plane was going to be hi jacked with a small stapler and 200 paperclips. I had forgotten they were in there but I guess they are not on the proscribed list. He also discovered the plug in that allows me to load stuff onto a micro disk (I had lost it) and also a fancy hair clip. I think it must have belonged to my daughter but I have no idea why it was in there.
I asked the fella, in a surprised voice had he really found it in my luggage to which he gave a conspiratorial nod and wink and asked if I would like him to dispose of it for me. I rather liked the idea someone actually thought I might be doing the dirty on a partner and said yes. There is no such thing as bad press apparently. To have said it belonged to my daughter would just have elicited a different kind of nod and wink and " of course it is sir!"
So there we were, 2 fellas in a bar without our wives and families. What were we going to do? As it turned out just about everyone else in the bar was in the same position as they were part of the stag/hen migration to Spain. I bought the first round and it had to be a Guinness. In the UK it is a bitter, fizzy beer that is almost completely undrinkable. But the Irish version is altogether more palatable . My guess is that it was traditionally made that way to survive the journey across the Irish sea
It was a very easy conversation but I have the distinct feeling I am becoming something of a Dinosaur. My erstwhile drinking partner had come to his job through University - twice. And had all sorts of other bits of paper. I have just collected time at the pumps so to speak. Still after 2 pints and the free entertainment of the "witty" team phrases on all the party goers t shirts my drinking partner had to go catch his plane. I still had another 2 hours. I had to drive when i got off the plane so I stepped away from the very tempting Guinness and hunted down some food.
I sauntered around, bought a newspaper, and eventually went to relieve my bladder. As I was performing at my stall another punter entered the Gents and went straight to the proper toilets, and then promptly rang his mother in law! He claimed he was at his wits end and that she (the mother in law) should try and get a handle on his other half. She had, he claimed made a complete spectacle of herself for the whole the unspecified time they were away. She was now absolutely, and here I quote "Shitfaced" and was being a completely intolerable person. Or words to that effect. I was inwardly laughing at the start until I realised the caller had a Newcastle accent and in all probability they were both on my flight. This could make for an interesting flight!
There was more to come! It was now time to proceed to the gate. I scanned my fellow travellers for the strife (as in trouble and strife - wife, rhyming slang). She was not who I thought she was nor was she making much of a spectacle of herself. Well not at first.
We were all stood in the departure lounge (in a sign of fore site the airport had removed all objects not bolted to something - quite possible they had all been removed as potential hand luggage!), standing in a big circle trying not to look at each other. A phone rang out. It was a young girls mother! After the phone call I and my fellow passengers were left in no doubt as to the identity of the "Strife". The young lady then berated her other half for calling her mum and whilst still on the phone informed her mum (and all of us) just who had been at fault all weekend. The husband had been denied access to the U.S. and they had had to fly back to Belfast instead. Oh deep joy. And the bickering started.
We were called forward to the plane in the nick of time but I could see this not going well once airborne. I went on the plane from the rear and bagged a good seat. For some reason the stewards at the front end were being a little officious and inspecting boarding passes with great flourish and holding everyone up. The bickering couple sat apart and the flight was disappointingly docile. She tried to make a conciliatory gesture at Newcastle but he was having none of it and we were held up on our transit bus as he refused to stand even on the same bus. The other bus was full but in an effort to get home before the police had to be called the bus driver relented and allowed him on.
I scarpered once in the arrivals. There would be no holds barred out here! or they would kiss and make up. One of the two.
I drove home in a bit of a lather about the exam. I had a 3 week limbo ahead of me until I got the result. I just had to get on with life and hope for the best.
The happy ending is that I did indeed pass. Now i just have to work on the log book - no excuses this time!
Suitably refreshed I wandered along the empty streets of Belfast. Rush hour was past, this is a time and place I don't see as a working man. I was surprised to see it so quiet but then most people are working at this time so who would be shopping?
This was the view that greeted me - minus the sun worshipers. The sun was bright and insistent. Being a man who spends his life in darkened rooms far removed from daylight it felt like a presence over my shoulder talking in my ear and revealing what I have been missing all this time. The only other person on the street was a man searching for discarded cigarette butts with a bit of life in them.
I found a tourist office and purchased some suitably cheesy Belfast memorabilia for the girls at work and my kids. I again considered visiting the Titanic museum, newly opened but was finding the streets of downtown Belfast suitably educational and refreshing. This was a different city to the one I saw on the news bulletins from my childhood. This was better. So much better
One of the things I had wanted to see was a structures known as Samson and Goliath.
As you can see they are gantry Cranes and as such were the biggest in the UK. They dominate the skyline.
you can see them from almost anywhere.
Soon it was time for a coffee break. Suitably refreshed from a large chain of coffee shops I felt I needed to make for the hotel and country club. I had no idea how long the bus back to the airport would take so I made for bus terminus. I became slightly lost and disorientated but as this was my first time in the city and I was not in a hurry I just enjoyed the experience. I don't get to do much travelling these days so you soak up what you can get.
I had a snooze on the bus. They seem to do that to me. I awoke just in time to bell the driver for my stop. It was in the village of Templepatrick. It is in solid countryside. I had used Google Earth to stake the place out and crossed the road to start the short journey. It was a pleasant afternoon and I was in no mood to arrive too hastily. The hotel itself was not a place that expected people to arrive on foot. The only way in was to perambulate along a narrow lane inside the grounds and leap onto the soft verge at the first sign of a taxi. My experience of taxi drivers is that they ask questions later and take no prisoners.
I felt very out of place as I rolled up to the front desk looking as though I were a person who hadn't slept well and had risen early to travel on a no frills airline. Which of course described me to a tee. I was in the wrong bit of the hotel. I was thus directed along a small dimly lit corridor (lest I should upset the paying guests!) until I arrived in the functions suite. The BSE had set up a registration desk so that is what I did and then settled into a comfy chair for some more zed's. I only hope I didn't dribble.
In time we were called forward to enter the exam room. After a short delay the clock was started and off we went. The delay was caused by an unknown examinee getting lost at the Leeds venue and being talked down over the phone by a moderator stood in front of me. Technology!
It was well that I had not been nervous before the start. It concerned me as I walked the streets of Belfast. I feel nerves help to concentrate your thoughts. When I set about revising for the exam I looked at the syllabus and decided that there was no way I was going to remember everything on it. So I selected the bits I thought I, as a sonographer ought to know. I shouldn't have tried to second guess the BSE!
As I studied the early questions on the paper I realised I had pretty much wasted 2 weeks of reading. The bits on the exam and the bit s iIhad read up on pretty much seemed to fit like 2 halves. I had read the half that wasn't on the paper! Fortunately it was a multiple choice so I could use an educated guess on the ones I wasn't sure about. In the event I was left scrabbling to get all the answers filled in before my hour was up.
Now here is a piece of human observation I found interesting. We all filed into the examination without so much as a grunt towards each other. This is not unusual I find. Trying not to be psyched out by an opponent! However afterwards we talked randomly and at length as though we were best buddies. I even broke that most holy of holy's (never talk to strangers in public toilets) and engaged a fellow examinee in a brief conversation about how absurd the exam had been. I was, it seemed in something of a minority. Bloody swots!
The second part was a video and answer session. Small bits of video and then time to scribble down answers. I was more comfortable here as it was just reporting echoes and that is what I do. However some of the questions started with "select the answer(s) that are most applicable...." Infuriatingly one or two of those types of questions had answers I would not have expected in a month of Sundays and selecting four "better than the others" seemed like choosing the impossible from the improbable.
Time up! An hour and a half went quickly. Especially as I was dying for the toilet.
Once again all social barriers were broken down and we all twittered excitedly to each other. That last sentence could cause confusion in the age of Twitter. We did not Tweet each other across the hall, I meant that we all chattered to each other using that out dated mode of communication - the voice box.
The gathering soon started to dissipate. I was rather hoping that we would all repair to the bar for a bit. I had 4 hours before my flight left and could stand a drink. A lad who been sat next to me before the exam offered me a lift to the airport in his hire car. Funny how different hospitals can be. I got a free day off. But this lad got sent over the day before, the evening at leisure in Belfast with expenses, hotel, hire car for the duration and his exam fees paid.
To be fair I did kind of slip in under the radar so to speak. I had sat the exam before but let the logbook part slip by. Long story. I was a bit afraid that my employers might encourage my colleagues to attend instead. So I got my application in first.
Anyway back to the airport. Or nearly, as my lift dropped into a gas station to fill up there was a brief reminder of the old days as a van marked "Bomb Disposal" flew past with blues and two's on.
We arrived safely at the return desk of the hire company but were left a little non plussed by the signage.
A hand written bollard poster instructed us to wait at this sign - DO NOT PROCEED (and leave your luggage in the car). But the whole site was empty. It all seemed a little suspicious. We wondered around to find anyone. A few minutes later and a car rolled up and out stepped the rental guy complete with an unintelligible Northern Irish accent. The reason for the sign was that he completed the vehicle check there and then and drove us to the terminal building in the car we arrived in. Very simple really!
For some reason, as we went through security, my hand luggage was selected for a random check. The security fella found that the plane was going to be hi jacked with a small stapler and 200 paperclips. I had forgotten they were in there but I guess they are not on the proscribed list. He also discovered the plug in that allows me to load stuff onto a micro disk (I had lost it) and also a fancy hair clip. I think it must have belonged to my daughter but I have no idea why it was in there.
I asked the fella, in a surprised voice had he really found it in my luggage to which he gave a conspiratorial nod and wink and asked if I would like him to dispose of it for me. I rather liked the idea someone actually thought I might be doing the dirty on a partner and said yes. There is no such thing as bad press apparently. To have said it belonged to my daughter would just have elicited a different kind of nod and wink and " of course it is sir!"
It was a very easy conversation but I have the distinct feeling I am becoming something of a Dinosaur. My erstwhile drinking partner had come to his job through University - twice. And had all sorts of other bits of paper. I have just collected time at the pumps so to speak. Still after 2 pints and the free entertainment of the "witty" team phrases on all the party goers t shirts my drinking partner had to go catch his plane. I still had another 2 hours. I had to drive when i got off the plane so I stepped away from the very tempting Guinness and hunted down some food.
I sauntered around, bought a newspaper, and eventually went to relieve my bladder. As I was performing at my stall another punter entered the Gents and went straight to the proper toilets, and then promptly rang his mother in law! He claimed he was at his wits end and that she (the mother in law) should try and get a handle on his other half. She had, he claimed made a complete spectacle of herself for the whole the unspecified time they were away. She was now absolutely, and here I quote "Shitfaced" and was being a completely intolerable person. Or words to that effect. I was inwardly laughing at the start until I realised the caller had a Newcastle accent and in all probability they were both on my flight. This could make for an interesting flight!
There was more to come! It was now time to proceed to the gate. I scanned my fellow travellers for the strife (as in trouble and strife - wife, rhyming slang). She was not who I thought she was nor was she making much of a spectacle of herself. Well not at first.
We were all stood in the departure lounge (in a sign of fore site the airport had removed all objects not bolted to something - quite possible they had all been removed as potential hand luggage!), standing in a big circle trying not to look at each other. A phone rang out. It was a young girls mother! After the phone call I and my fellow passengers were left in no doubt as to the identity of the "Strife". The young lady then berated her other half for calling her mum and whilst still on the phone informed her mum (and all of us) just who had been at fault all weekend. The husband had been denied access to the U.S. and they had had to fly back to Belfast instead. Oh deep joy. And the bickering started.
We were called forward to the plane in the nick of time but I could see this not going well once airborne. I went on the plane from the rear and bagged a good seat. For some reason the stewards at the front end were being a little officious and inspecting boarding passes with great flourish and holding everyone up. The bickering couple sat apart and the flight was disappointingly docile. She tried to make a conciliatory gesture at Newcastle but he was having none of it and we were held up on our transit bus as he refused to stand even on the same bus. The other bus was full but in an effort to get home before the police had to be called the bus driver relented and allowed him on.
I scarpered once in the arrivals. There would be no holds barred out here! or they would kiss and make up. One of the two.
I drove home in a bit of a lather about the exam. I had a 3 week limbo ahead of me until I got the result. I just had to get on with life and hope for the best.
The happy ending is that I did indeed pass. Now i just have to work on the log book - no excuses this time!
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