I ARRIVED in Paphos Airport in Cyprus at half past midnight. I had been travelling all day, but I wasn’t finished yet.
I still had to collect my rental car and make a two-hour journey up the motorway, so I was anxious to get the car and be on my way.
This was back in the days when car hire was affordable. It was my first time using this car-hire company, so I was a little apprehensive. The reviews were good though, so what could possibly go wrong?
The first alarm bell went off when I couldn’t see my name on any of the cards being held aloft by the various taxi drivers, car rental agents and travel company representatives.
Still only mildly concerned, I went outside to check another group but couldn’t see my name there either. A second alarm bell started ringing.
OK, so maybe the guy was just running a bit late. It was too early to panic, but when all the card holders collected their passengers and left me standing alone outside, I accepted the time to panic had arrived.
I only had an office phone number and an email address for the company. I had hoped the phone might have been forwarded to a mobile, but it just rang out.
I sent a couple of emails, in the hope that someone might be monitoring the account, but that didn’t work either.
I searched the website for an emergency number but couldn’t find one, but I did find a Facebook account, so I sent a message to that.
When it got to 2am, I realised I was destined to spend the night in the airport.
I briefly considered getting a hotel room in Paphos, but I figured that by the time a taxi arrived out from the city, collected me and dropped me off at a hotel back in the centre, it would be at least 3am, and if they had no room, I could find myself stranded again only in a different place. So, I decided to hold tough.
Paphos Airport is very small with limited facilities and those they did have were closed for the night.
There were some metal seats in the arrivals hall, and I threw myself across a few of them. In terms of comfort, they ranked 0 on a scale of one to a million. Whatever way I turned my body, a piece of steel tried to pierce a rib.
I dozed on and off until 5am when the coffee shop opened for business. I headed for that refuge.
I found a place to charge my phone, which was my only contact with the outside world. The last thing I needed was to miss a call from someone trying to supply me with a car.
With my phone back to full power and coffee in the system I went outside to get some fresh air and walked around the car park for two hours.
On the positive side, the weather was warm, even though dawn was just breaking, and I was also building up steps. You find positives where you can.
I was prepared for the long wait until the office opened at 9am so I was pleasantly surprised when my phone buzzed around 7.15am. It was a message on Facebook from the car hire company asking me where I was.
I told them I hadn’t moved all night - I was still in the same place. There was nothing more said, but I clung to the hope that help was on the way.
I had been on the go for about 20 hours by now; I was tired, and my mood was deteriorating.
About 15 minutes later, a car screeched to a halt outside the entrance to the departure hall and a man of my own age came rushing towards me calling my name. He was obviously flustered and stressed, so much so that I was worried he might have a heart attack.
We sat into his car, and he introduced himself as Antonis, the owner of the company. After spotting my message on Facebook he had jumped out of bed and headed for the office where he found the bookings for Saturday and realised the wrong time had been placed opposite my name. Someone had written 1400 hours instead of 0030 hours.
He brought me to his house, where his wife was already making breakfast, and offered me the use of a shower. He had a car ready for me and kept apologising for the mix-up.
I knew it was a genuine mistake, so I just wanted to forget about it and be on my way.
Instead, he introduced me to his wife and the three of us sat on the patio and had breakfast. It turned out Antonis and I had a few things in common. We were the same age for a start. We both write a weekly column for a local newspaper - his is in Paphos - and we both had a history with a dodgy prostate.
His wife, whose name escapes me, worked as a health inspector and they spent a bit of time in Clonakilty in Cork some years previously when she was attending a conference. He spent his time touring the county while she was working. They both loved their time in Ireland.
As I was leaving, the guy responsible for the booking error arrived, and he was reeking of guilt. He kept apologising over and over until I was getting embarrassed.
After the breakfast, Antonis guided me from his place back onto the motorway and I was finally on my way.
After meeting these lovely people, the long night in the airport was soon forgotten and the tiredness had worn off. I have some new friends now too.
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