The Miraculous Expanding Jumper

The move from Nowhere-on-Thames to Nowhere-in-France went remarkably smoothly, all things considered. Probably the only tricky part was cramming all my thermal clothing – plus a newly-acquired electric blanket - into a tiny bag to beat the budget-airline baggage restrictions. This involved wearing a LOT of clothes, but the temperature was so low on my day of departure that it wasn’t a real hardship. The real hardship would have been getting up if I’d fallen over. I was wearing so many clothes that I would probably still be lying on the floor of Stansted airport departures, waiting for someone to either take pity on me or mow me down with one of those little electric buggy things, had gravity claimed me and dragged me to the floor.

There is something about managing to board a Ryanair flight with all the stuff you packed in your hand luggage that’s immensely satisfying. I was a bit concerned, and had practised, in my mind, exactly how I would strap the electric blanket to my body in the event that I was stopped and told that my hand luggage exceeded regulation dimensions. Frankly, I don’t know why I ever worry. I’ve flown to the other side of the globe for a fortnight with hand luggage, so visiting a house where I’ve already got plenty of clothes for a week is no problem. Except, of course, when the outside temperature has dropped to “arctic” and you’re having to call your thickest woollies into service. 

What I failed to factor into my plans, however, was the Big Thaw and the attendant massive increase in temperature which meant that I had no need to travel back dressed as if for a week in Siberia. This posed a problem, as my big jumper alone filled up all the space which had been occupied on the outbound leg by the electric blanket I was leaving in France. Not only that, but the jumper refused to pack flat. This, despite the use of one of those special plastic bags which allow one to expel all the air and thus condense one’s clothes into a sort of brick.

I eventually managed to cram the thick jumper into my bag, squeezed into a brick in the plastic bag. Sadly, the plastic bag began, only part way to the aircraft, to show distinct signs of no longer wishing to fulfil its role. This meant that as I edged forward in the boarding queue, my sweater and all the other clothes in my bag took it upon themselves to start spontaneously expanding….

I managed to reach the aircraft without drawing too much attention to myself, despite the fact that I was carrying a piece of hand luggage which seemed to have taken on a life of its own, and was discernibly growing as if someone was using a bicycle pump on it. I shoved it quickly into the overhead locker, and was pleased that the person who opened the locker on landing wasn’t knocked to the ground as my jumper and other items of clothing broke free from their plastic prison and resumed their normal shape and size before the eyes of the rest of the unsuspecting passengers.

Phew!

Oh yes…I bet you’re wondering how I fared in the cold-weather-one-upmanship competition? Well, it was minus 12^o  for a couple of nights, and below freezing for a day or so, but once I’d lit enough fires, I hardly noticed the cold. However, my trip was not without incident. I shall shortly bring you tales of broken walls, broken fences and a breakdown in international relations..