The problem is because the devil is in the detail, and quite often the details that defy my smooth passage when travelling. On Monday we were going to London – the flights from Stansted to Pisa arrived at a much more suitable time. Any plane arriving somewhere at midnight, when you then have to travel on a bit to reach your destination is just a pain in the bahookie if you ask me. Anyway we toddled along to Waverley – looked at the departure board and saw that the 11.30am to Kings Cross left from platform 1. So there we sat sipping our coffees and bags full of overpriced sandwiches from the station shops when I decided to check our seat numbers. Lo and behold, we were actually booked on the 11.24am from platform 10. It was 11.20am at that point, so with coffee flying we raced along, up some stairs and then down some stairs. We arrived just as the doors were closing and the Lumo lady on the inside was deaf to our pleas. We raced back to platform 1 just as that train was leaving. Luckily trains are not like planes and generally there is another one coming along in half an hour. I booked tickets on my phone and even managed to secure some seats. The following day, we were at a tube station with one more stop to get to Liverpool Street where the Stansted Express departs. No trains on this line were in sight, and a member of staff explained that there seemed to be a problem, but one might come along in about 20 minutes. So at that point we hot-footed it up to the street and called an Uber, which arrived very soon, although unfortunately parked on the other side of a very busy street. But we got to the airport and onto the plane. At Pisa our friends said we had a chance of catching the 5.20pm to Lucca so we darted to the train station, ran along platform and jumped on the 5.20pm train, which we then found out was going in the opposite direction. But here we are, and never more in need of a holiday.