Hi Ho Aston Villa!

We are among the last to leave the ground. The security guy suggests we might stay to turn off the lights.

We walk back to the city centre. The Villa fans are nowhere to be seen.

We pop into a Tesco Express for water and some sustenance. While we will have loads of time at the airport, we really don't have enough time to go to a pub or restaurant.

On Platform 2, the next train to the airport (heading ultimately all the way to Southampton is absolutely jammers. One of the station staff is waving frantically into each carriage to get people to bunch up.

The next airport train isn't for about 40 minutes. Will be just as packed?

We panic a bit and go outside to find a taxi. A first.

£42 fare cures our panic.

We get the next train, which has loads of seats. It's a shuttle, just to the airport. A definite VLL.

I open my salad. No fork!! Another VLL. But it is finger-licking good!

We breeze through airport security. There is only one scanner open but only about 8 people ahead of us. Most haven't flown before, it seems.

I get the full body scan treatment. Another random check?

Our flight is the last one of the night. It is delayed. And then it is delayed some more.

The Villa fans are subdued. Many take themselves to Wetherspoons because they've only had 15 pints, what with having to get to the airport from the Witten Arms.

Eventually, we take off a full hour late. I am looking forward to completing my Ryanair survey.

MTC chooses to take my seat as there is a big slob in her row. Who needs airbags?

The flight is uneventful. Apart from a guy in the row ahead of me making mildly racist remarks about the Portuguese attendant. He does look like Giorgio Chiellini though. And Portuguese people are indeed lovely people and they the passenger does mimic their accent quite well, for a bogger.

Finished with the attendant, he turns his attention to the passenger beside him. Turns out the latter works for a bank, AIB, has work in the morning, at 09:00 and has two children on the plane, ages 14 and 12, who - the frmer assures him, will be grand.

The bank guy is not as certain. He disappears down the plane. Never to return.

We walk straight onto the shuttle bus at Dublin airport. It gets crowded with a group of Nordies blocking everyone with their big cases and their annoying voices. Times like this, I long for a hard border on the island of Ireland.

At the car-park exit I have to buzz for assistance. Reg? asks our captor. Eventually, the barrier rises and we are free. Car beside us has the same problem. Fiasco with the Help 3, or is it 4?

Still, despite all this, we agree it was a great day. A United win, Cruzcampo, good grub - what more would you want?Baca selengkapnya