I was supposed to be going to Marbella, not Pompey

Blaise's head is beginning to resemble Bobby Charlton's

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When you read my column, you probably think that I add a certain amount of ‘colour’, exaggerating the events in my life to make them and me seem more interesting or funny.

But I can assure you I really don’t. Whatever I write here each Friday is absolutely true and really has happened to me (last week’s wedding proposal and my bright red hair being a prime example).

Let’s be honest, there’s no way the kind of things I get caught up in could possibly be a work of fiction. They would be too unbelievable for a start.

This week in the crazy world of Gobby Gibbs I was supposed to be flying to Marbella in Spain as the leader of a press trip.

But I never actually got there. Instead I ended up back at home in a somewhat less balmy Pompey because of a daft journalist who decided to go walkies in search of a drink at Stansted airport and made me and the others miss the flight.

I had had to get up at 3am on a Saturday to drive three hours to the airport, then try to check in a load of journalists.

I was stopped by security because my phone was cracked at the back (so what?), then tried and failed to talk more security people into letting us jump the queue at check-in because I was starting to worry that we would miss the flight.

I then spent a considerable amount of time trying to find one of the journalists who had gone walkabout because they wanted a beverage (and not of the hot caffeine variety).

There followed an undignified sprint to the gate, journalists in tow, only to be told by some stroppy ‘I’m going to make your morning hell’ woman (she needn’t have bothered, it already was) that the gate had closed. Tough.

I then spent the next two hours trying to get out of Stansted (there is no simple exit if you miss a flight).

Finally, I called a taxi to come and get me and drive me the three hours back home to Portsmouth (a total of six hours in a car and it wasn’t even midday).

Even then it wasn’t over. I had to spend the rest of the weekend trying to re-organise the trip that never was.

So, do you still think my life is glamorous?