The day before The Day. Everything has been organized to military precision. Over the past five months, the plans drawn up by the formidable General Valentina have been executed to the most minute detail, with logistics, sourcing and production support provided by Yours Truly. All is going to plan - but, then, from out the blue, trouble appears.
First, the Finnish union for air cabin crew threatens strikes, which are set to begin four days before the wedding, creating considerable worry for our guests arriving from dear aul Pohjola. To make matters worse – or infuriatingly surreal, actually – the National Mediator, Esa Lonka, refuses to reschedule his two week holiday in the forest to attend a national defence course. So, while he's with his buddies, playing war games by day and drinking around the fireplace by night, the talks to avert a strike are in a motionless limbo. And, incredibly, there is no-one to take his place as apparently he's the only person in the entire country who's qualified to negotiate such industrial disputes. The talks to avert the strike are thus allowed to progress only for one day per week (Saturday), two weeks running.
Mr Lonka does have the Finnish legal system behind him – national defence is a right for every man - and, in a typically Finnish manner, he insists in availing of it. He is quoted as explaining his decision, "the National Mediator plans any talks around his own schedule". The training was in no way compulsory, but he added as justification "the course is renowned as a good one." The fact that thousands of people would be affected by his decision, both personally and financially, does not seem to come into his equation. And so, with the abetting of this self-serving and sanctimonious git, the strike begins – forcing many of our guests to change their flight plans.
Meanwhile, a perfect storm is brewing. The coldest November in decades has arrived and snow storms hit England, closing down Gatwick airport and affecting the entire transport system of the South East - again creating havoc for our guests, forcing some to make their way to London via Riga, Oslo, Berlin and other distant lands.
After the English Ministry of Frost calms down, however, its Irish counterpart decides to throw a temper tantrum of its own. Subzero temperatures and heavy snow fall in Dublin disrupt both airports and roads - creating a virtually impregnable pincer movement affecting anyone wanting to travel. Four people have already had to pull out as a direct result, and, at present, Yours Truly still doesn't know whether the rest of the Dublin contingent will make it out from the no longer Green, now more White Isle.
But that's not all. The Italian familia has been struck down by a virus, meaning several immediate family members had to pull out at the last moment. In addition, some guests missed their flights for lack of boarding cards, while others have problems with their hotel bookings. Heathrow also doesn't disappoint, luggage gets lost on the way. Mamma mia...
We shall see how the rest of the day pans out; who will make it, and who will unfortunately be left behind. They say all is fair in Love and War. After this week, I'd like to add that all is also possible in them - for we are currently experiencing the The Fog Of Love! At 1158 hours, my thoughts are a) I cannot wait until tomorrow b) this is all worth it because of Valentina c) this is the last time we do this d) I'm incredibly touched by the lengths to which our guests are going to make it over e) what else can go wrong? f) bring it on, I'm only just getting started and g) needs must I stop writing now and snap back into action.
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