It takes a special kind of person to miss their flight home despite having arrived at the airport some five hours ahead of take-off. No wonder there are those who describe me as 'special'!

After a lengthy and convoluted journey on the few London tubes that were operating as usual on Saturday morning courtesy of upgrades to the Circle, District and Hammersmith lines; a frenetic search through 57 die-cast aeroplane boxes to find a 737-800 at a bursting-at-the-seams-with-screaming-kids Hamley's thanks to its 250th Birthday Celebrations; and dash along Paddington's platform 6 with a 25kg suitcase and larger-than-life computer-cum-overnight bag to make a train that I didn't even want to catch but that the platform manager had been so helpful pointing it out, I was the first person to check in for my British Airways flight.

Unfortunately, they would only accept my bags three hours before take-off so I was forced to take a seat at Carluccio's and enjoy a pasta e fagiolo (a thick soup of pasta, creamy borlotti beans and vegetables with extra virgin olive oil) with a white wine that shares its name with an Italian cheese, pecorino. This variety is grown mainly in the Abruzzi and neighbouring Marches regions. It was fresh, nutty and slightly oxidised (I suspect the restaurant's fault, not the grapes) but not very memorable.

Two hours and a half hours and counting down, bags were through, and customs and security negotiated, so I trawled the shops for gifts and then, here's where my mistake came in, bought two books (on a BOGOF offer) at WH Smith. Shortly thereafter, I was waylaid by a very entertaining young man promoting fashion designer Christian Audigier's range of wines from the Montpeyroux estates in the Languedoc-Roussillon region as well as his two Champagnes.

Actually, it was the bottles that caught my eye - they were very colourful and playful and, on closer inspection, illustrated with tattoos designed by the celebrated US tattoo artist, Ed Hardy. I tasted the rosé (pale pink, not very aromatic or flavoursome) and the merlot (dark and gutsy) before moving on to Wagamama for the chilli heat I'd promised myself after a week's worth of cream-and-butter French cuisine.

One and a half hours and counting down, I conferred with the waitress and decided I did indeed have time for a glass of wine as well, and started reading. I was well into the book, and the pretty but simple rosé was long gone, when I glanced at my watch again but it was too late. I reached the gate to see the plane push back. So I finished my trip in the same place as I started it, in Ingrid and Anton's spare room.

Some 24 hours later, I was the first person to reach the gate just minutes after it had been posted on the departure information screens. And I found myself a way to get on the plane almost immediately by befriending a lady travelling alone with two babies, a pram, a nappy bag and a carry-on. It wasn't all selfish; I did help her again once we were safely docked at Cape Town International!

Oh, the book? Blacklands by Belinda Bauer.

And BOGOF? Buy one get one free.