A number of years ago, my other half was popping over for a rare visit, so she got a flight to Cardiff Airport. I headed over to meet her.
It was a rubbish day - cold, wet, and foggy as fuck. Predictably, the flights started getting diverted here there and everywhere.
I stayed in the terminal for an hour or so until the airline had decided what to do, and once they'd firmed up their travel plans and shuttle back to Cardiff, it turned out I had two or three hours to kill I thought "sod it, I'm off to knock some balls about at a driving range or something".
As I headed down the steps into the entrance concourse, I saw the whole area was lined with press and photographers, and as I walked through, the entirety of the Wales national rugby team started coming through the doors. It was surreal - a wall of similarly dressed dudes who you usually only see on TV, and I'm stuck square in the middle walking against the tide with a courtesy "alright boys" to get me through.
For an instant, I was probably the most photographed random dude in the country, and probably ruined dozens of photos. It was cool as fuck though.