In traditional Mario style, we had a last minute rush to the airport.

Already in a mad panic, we hit the motorway to find that the bridge was open (a typical excuse for running late, but this time it was true). My sister threw me an anxious look.

When we finally arrived at the airport, some guys were trying to steal our parking spot. “Hell no, block his ass,” I told my sister. A few angry stares later they let us have the space. If they hadn’t it would have been game on – missing my flight was not an option.

I rushed to the KLM airlines check-in desk and stood in front of the flight hostess. She was preoccupied with her appearance, touching up her make-up as if she was about to board a flight with Leonardo Di Caprio. No energy, no desire, no commitment to KLM. When she started talking I almost fell asleep.

It’s 11:45am missus, you should be awake by now. But more to the point, my flight leaves in 45 minutes, let’s go!

She looked like she was on something even Amsterdam hadn’t invented yet, and when she pulled herself together she decided I was too late to take the flight. I asked her to call the gate, and after looking up my name they changed their minds and decided I could make it (footballers must have special air travel powers). But I would have to figure out for myself how I would get my bags to London.

“Are you joking? When is the next flight?”

She didn’t know. What a shock.

You’re sitting in front of a screen. Why don’t you check? She eventually decided to use her delicate, colourful, not to be scratched nails and had a look.

After I changed my ticket, I was told that my luggage was overweight and I’d have to pay an extra fee. There were five people behind the window who all looked at me and then carried on with what they were doing.

Hello?

One desk was closed and a second was stationed by a woman who was on the phone. Although she was acting really busy, I imagine she was just telling her husband to take the chicken out of the freezer. I waited in line, just me, myself and I. After five minutes had passed a KLM colleague arrived and rang the bell, standing in line with me.

“Are you waiting too?” I asked. He smiled at me and said yes.
“Damn they make you wait as well!?”
“They’ll open up in a second,” he said, smiling at me uncomfortably.

To ease the tension he asked if I was still playing football.
“Not anymore,” I responded. More silence, until he muttered “come on guys,” under his breath. I gave him an equally uncomfortable smile back.

When I eventually boarded my flight I thought – for these prices, KLM really ought to invest in planes that don’t look like they could fall out of the sky at any second. From now on, KLM will be a last resort.