"Happy New Year" said Julie. "Blwyddyn Newydd Dda" I replied. Five minues later we were fast asleep.

The hotel was hosting a gala evening but we were never the type to go out to celebrate New Years Eve, always prefering our own company and reserving our right to sleep through it all if we felt like it.

So last night was no different, as we struggled to stay awake past midnight to hear Big Ben strike twelve times and then see the spectacular fireworks display in London, all from the comfort of our bedroom.

Thankfully there was no need for an alarm to wake us this morning, no ridiculous time of the morning departure meant our new year could start in a delightfully leisurely manner.

Breakfast was served from 6am until 10am and with half an hour to spare we went down to fill our boots.

The breakfast gate keeper checked our room number and informed us we weren't on the list. I protested but she wouldn't let us through, despite me showing her our booking confirmation with breakfast included. She was a proper battle-axe!

We had to go to reception to get it all sorted out on their system. Eventually with our names on the list we tried again.

There was limited choice in the buffet but at least we both got to enjoy a decent cooked breakfast.

Julie pointed out slices of turkey. "They must have had loads left over from last night's party". She didn't fancy cold turkey for breakfast but she did briefly consider making a sandwich for lunch. In the end she decided not to be that person.

It was a nice day. The sun was streaming in through the windows. We looked out the back and saw an old airplane, (apparently a Percival P50 Prince), a small twin-engine plane that evoked the glamour of 1950s air travel. 

"I bet you're glad we're not flying in that today"  I joked.

After packing our cases we walked from the Crowne Plaza hotel, the former Speke airport terminal, to a large retail park to waste some time. We walked around Next and had a coffee in their in-store Costa coffee. Julie bought Tyler and Haf one of those traditional "Home Sweet Home" framed cross-stich. They had just moved into Fron Gaer  in Caergeiliog.

Bored, we returned to the hotel and sat in the foyer for an hour. We had too much time on our hands. I sat in the bar watching Wrexham beating Blackburn Rovers, 2-0, whilst Julie brought out her knitting.

At 2pm we called an Uber to taxi us to the airport.

The check-in desks were very quiet, literally no queue at all. We dropped off our suitcase with Easy Jet member of staff called Katie who had two young girls helping her put the tags on the luggage. "You're doing a great job" said Julie. Both the 10 year old little helpers, Emmy and Mane nodded and smiled.

The security gates were equally an empty. Thankfully they didn't have primary school children operating the x-rays.

In a flash we were through the other side, strolling down Duty Free.

We were unsure what to do about food. The airport hotel we were staying at tonight didn't have a restaurant, so a late supper when we got there was out of the question.

However, we were still full from breakfast and couldn't face a big meal right now.

A few drinks in the pub The Kissing Gate, sandwiches bought from WH Smiths for the plane and a return to Duty Free to buy our champagne and Toberlone; and it was almost time for the gate number to be announced. 

As soon as it popped up we made our across. Our level of Dutch courage was overflowing, which was the only explanation why Julie wanted to have a photo of herself sitting on a kids ride. We were betting some funny looks, but we thought it was hilarious!

After a brief wait, and a failed attempt at hugging the flight attendants, we arrived in our seats.

We took off at 5:15pm, precisely on time. That almost never happens. 

The sun had set a while ago as we headed out into the darkness. The outskirts of Liverpool below us looked almost pretty.

Julie had brought with her her parents travel dominoes set. We had a game which she won, even surprising herself. I didn't bother with a "best out of three". The tray wasn't the easiest of surfaces. The tiles kept on sliding from their positions.  

We then struck up a conversation with the young woman sat next to us. Her name was Jana, and sat opposite, across the aisle was Max a relatively new boyfriend. She joked he was stil in the probationary period!

We spent the rest of the flight chatting away. She told us that at home, near Ceszky Krumlov, she has two new cats, who are currently known as "circle" and "roll around" (but in Czech) because she couldn't think of names, and that's all they seem to do. 

The two and a half hour flight flew by.

We landed, once again, precisely on time 8:35pm local time. Such a perfect schedule was unheard of.

As we walked from the plane to passport control Julie was a little unsteady on her feet. We had been drinking all day and hadn't eaten properly since breakfast. We both stood in front of the border officer, trying our best to look sober, waiting for our passports to be stamped.

We were in!

The hotel was walking distance away from the terminal, albeit a five minute walk. 

We zig-zagged our way, taking almost twenty minutes to reach the Moxy. We hadn't taken the most direct route. The pavement had run out, we struggled over grass verges and walked in the road for a while.

It was with enormous relief we reached the hotel. Reception was busy. You could feel the excitement in the room filled with people going on holiday tomorrow.

We made it to our room. I was dripping with sweat with all the effort of getting us all safely over the line. Julie crashed onto the bed and immediately fell asleep.

I returned back down to reception for two large bottles of water, which cost €10.70! But it was priceless. I knew we were going to be thirsty in the morning.

I also needed to mention the TV remote didn't work.

"No problem sir" said one of the receptionists.

She followed me back up to the room. I wouldn't recommend she did that usually. It was very trusting of her.

Halfway up in the lift I remembered Julie's prone position on the bed.  I had images of her lying half naked on the bed, in an attempt to get undressed. When I opened the door I was so relieved to see she had hardly moved, only to roll over.

The receptionist manually switched the television on, then I tested the remote and the volume worked, and the up/down channel button worked. Job done.

I thanked her and apologised at the same time.

I settled down to watch a foreign language film called The Testers (I think), but it only had French, Italian or German subtitles. It all got too confusing so I flicked a few channels and stopped at a Spanish language film, about World War II in Germany, with English subtitles. I lasted about ten minutes before all that reading sent me to sleep.