What a time to fly

So where will you be watching the game later?

After being lucky enough to be at Wembley on Wednesday, this evening I will be on BA159…. ✈️

I have known since I booked my flight a few months back that I would miss the Euros Final, with flights between London and Bermuda much limited, my choice was Wednesday, the night of the semi, or Sunday.

I could move it to next week, but I have clients already on the island, the first visitors from the U.S. for 18 months. It has been a carefully planned and long thought-out trip, and I need to be there on Monday morning to lead them into three days of meetings…. as tempted as I was to throw a sicky.

Gutting, but I have faced the prospect, probably since we beat Germany, that this was a realistic possibility, and of course reality sunk in pretty quickly in the early hours of Thursday when I crashed into bed after witnessing history being made at Wembley against Denmark.

One of my bucket list items was to watch England live in a major tournament, and I am happy I managed to tick that one off at least.

There isn’t even an amount of elasticity in my flight. I leave before kick off and land after the game ends, although penalties might able to be watched in the arrivals bar…. I know, sssh myself.

WiFi on transatlantic flights is still a budding perk, and an expensive one at that, so my best chance is to be able to somehow follow the game via the BBC or I am sure the pilot will weigh in buggering up any other passengers who have recorded it.

To coin a phrase. It is what it is and I have done many Charlton games oblivious to happenings at 30,000 ft, yet this is a little bit different.

After what has been so long, this week it has been really lovely to come home. Let that continue without me.

So many jokes, so many sneers. But all those oh-so-nears 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿