Day one: I arrived at Bournemouth Airport just before the two hours before the flight, which you absolutely do not need at Bournemouth. I got through security in three minutes flat and then went to the restaurant/bar/thing and had some cheesy garlic bread – just the thing before being confined in an airless space with 300 strangers!

I had some snacks from Smiths and read my book and then it was time to board – well, it was time to queue at the gate and then queue again outside. Meanwhile, the 17:25 Murcia flight (delayed to 17:25; yes, that is correct), which was ten minutes later than ours, was already literally boarding. Of course, being in seat A, the person in seat C was already there but he seemed very nice and jolly and told me that the middle seat would remain vacant because it was his partner’s seat and she was too unwell to travel. I decided not to probe further there but just enjoy the elbow room, because Ryanair certainly don’t give you knee room.

We set off with the sun blinding me and by the time we arrived, it was total darkness. We were put on a bus to go to the terminal, although the people waiting to get on our plane to go back had just walked from the door. Then, because we’ve “taken back control!”, we had to queue for ages round and round in a snake for all other passports, while person after person returned sheepishly from the EU auto gates. Minor issue: as we rounded the first wiggle, a security person in a yellow “ask me for help” jacket spied a backpack abandoned on the floor as we came in and spent ten minutes going round the queue shouting “has anyone lost a bag??” in increasingly desperate tones as we all began to imagine how an evacuation worked while we were all stuck behind immigration. Back outside onto the apron? Push us through without stamping our passports and let that be a problem for another day? And at last a girl who looked exactly like you’d expect her to look, having the bag shoved into her hands by one of her travelling companions, claimed it, with lots of “oh, thank you so much, I really appreciate it, oh, I’m useless, me” while the rest of us tutted and muttered together about the security near-miss and how many times the lady in the yellow jacket had pretty much stood next to her and shouted about the lost bag.

Easy through the other side. I followed the signs for buses, followed the bus stops, found the sign that told me city buses went from stop 1 and bus 300 confirmed that for me as it passed me as I walked to stop 1. It waited there long enough for me to figure out how to buy a 48-hour 3-zone bus ticket, to get on the bus, to validate the ticket (that’s the step where people get caught out) and re-validate it because I’d stuck it in the machine the wrong way round, find a seat, take a selfie and generally get settled before we started moving. Then I followed the route until we were nearly where I wanted to be and I moved forward as we approached so I could read the information board at the front. Got off in the right place, right next to the smallest Carrefour I’ve ever seen, so I got some breakfast and then walked down to the river to my boat.

In high season, it’s a hostel with bunk beds in dorms but out of high season, I get a room with four bunks to myself. I thought that but I was shown to “my room” which had towels and sheets on only one bed so I’m pretty confident this is definitely my room. The bed is not as uncomfortable as some reviews said but it’s very hot in here so I’ve got the air conditioning on for a while. It’s far too noisy to use all night but if I can get the room to a tolerable temperature, maybe I’ll survive the night. I had a quick stroll down to the funfair just a bit down the river but as it was getting on for 10.30 and I’ve got to be up early in the morning, a ride on the Krakow Eye will just have to wait. I don’t mind the room so far and the location is certainly pretty spectacular.