Oh dear, the difficult 'second blog'.

Well, it was the winter of the Big Freeze - not that we knew that at the time.We left England at the time of a medium size chillette with two heavy downfalls of snow in a month, but the forecast was for another big snowfall that would close the roads and airports and we were anxious to get away before the weather got worse and trapped us in Hove with a wheezing boiler and 2 hot water bottles.And we almost didn't make it……

We set off from Brighton with the skies darkening as we sped up the M23 in the Pious, only just making it to Heathrow airport before the first snowflakes fell and starting to cover the runways with a thick white blanket of what looked worryingly like flight-delaying snow.

Ellen and other school-going children with no care other than a homework deadline (oh those were the days) may well be jumping for joy at the thought of more snow days where they will not only miss Maths and Double Science but also get to stay in bed until mid-day drinking tea and watching television.Our concern was that our snow day might turn into a snow week at Terminal 5.

Our flight was due to take off at 9.25 p.m. and we were all safely strapped into our seats, eagerly flicking through the in-flight entertainment magazine planning which films to watch and sniffing the air for clues as to what gastronomic delicacies where in store for us when we were told there would be a 'slight delay' as they waited for the wing de-icer to show up.Outside our little port-hole the snow was flurrying and whirling, landing thicker and faster.It looked jolly cold.But never mind, we were snug and warm and about to take off for sunny climes.What was a little wait?

So we waited and waited and that lazy old wing de-icer never did turn up.Eventually, about 11 p.m. they announced that they couldn't get the rear cargo hold door closed and we were going to have to switch planes.Just as soon as they found one in the back of a hangar somewhere.Twenty minutes later, hoorah, they had found a spare plane round the back.Unfortunately it was just a leetle bit smaller than the one we were on now so they needed volunteers to stay behind, hotel accommodation provided and take a flight the next day, oh yes and they were offering £550 per person to do so.

Well, people nearly lost squashy extremities in the elbow-led stampede that followed; we had no chance as we were in the very last row of the plane.And, turns out they only needed about 20 people so I'm not sure why they felt they had to offer quite such a vast sum of money.The rest of us had to get off the plane and hang around pathetically, being occasionally mollified by the odd announcement that we would be boarding 'in 10 minutes'.

10 minutes stretched to half an hour.Half an hour stretched to an hour.Rumours started to circulate about us not being able to take-off after 2 a.m.The crowd started to get restless.At midnight all the overhead lights had been turned off, but no-one knew where to complain, so people huddled around the garishly lit advertisement of David Beckham in his underwear in order to get enough light to read.

Finally, finally, at 2.30 a.m. we boarded and at 3 a.m. we took off.The thrill of the upcoming films and the excitement of the unknown meal had slightly abated but for the record I watched Julie and Julia and ate something with salmon in it and a few over-boiled vegetables.

Below us dark and heavy snow-clad skies.Ahead of us sunshine, warmth and dulce de leche icecream.It's looking good so far……..