¿Dónde está el avión?

The first setback of a 10-hour journey back to the UK.
Barcelona airport was even worse; exquisite building and facilities for Spain and Europe and international flights, but a cattleshed for the British Queasyjet customers. Delays, delays, more delays, hours queueing in the rain or crammed into a stationery transit bus. Seats appear to have been replaced by childsize ones - I'm only 5'3" but my knees were squashed into the seat in front and the little tray was resting on my boobs. Arrived in the early hours of next day, shattered, stressed and frozen.