It’s here!!!!! Day one!!!!
As someone who prides themselves on their ability to plan and execute travel arrangements like it was their job, imagine my relief when G asked me back in July, ‘so are we flying out the morning or evening of the 20th?’. ‘Evening’ I replied, without a second thought. ‘Are you sure?’ he said, mid-eye roll I realised he was right. 00:50 Thursday meant Thursday morning and not Thursday night. Oh. My. God. I got something wrong.
We were able to have dinner and drinks with my parents before they dropped us at the airport and then we cooled our heals for three or so hours at the airport, which was fine. Brisbane International has had a total revamp since we last flew out of there!
Being the worry-wart I am, it threw me that I had completely misjudged this one. So, how did our first travel day go? Well. Departure was scheduled for 00:50 on Thursday morning. We were in the air by 1am and on our way to Hong Kong.
A few things I’m not overly proud of occurred on our flight. First of all I developed a mild strain of Tourette’s and nearly screamed at the woman behind me. The screens were touch screens, but she seemed to have confused this with one of those rooms you go into and break shit. My head jerking forward every time she got her claws into it.
The guy in front of me dropped his seat as soon as he possibly could, the guy across the row from me was licking his fingers (repeatedly) after each morsel of food that made its way to him. Oh and the guy one up, kept staring back wistfully at the women sitting in front of me. They were not together.
Once we were on the flight I started my normal routine of getting ready for sleep. It was after this that it all went terribly wrong. First of all, my restless (or, ‘busy’) legs felt like two electric eels. The pain and buzzing sensation was awful. Secondly I could smell the behind of the man next to me (no, seriously). They served dinner which I wasn’t expecting, given the time of night, but I foolishly decided to eat. It was within half an hour of eating that I started to sweat. Now, to be clear there was nothing wrong with the food, but I felt like with the anxiety I had about the length of the flight and my stupid legs, it just set me right off. I ran to the bathroom and thanks to an exorcist-style power-chuck, the flight was left with one less toilet for the remainder of the flight.
I then spent the next six and a half hours going back and forth to the toilets feeling like I wanted to die. I skipped the breakfast run and nurses my orange juice like it was an oxygen tank.
Our flight was certainly better than the last, there was a delay for take-off, but we had relatively decent seats for economy. I timed my sleep attempts with whenever my eyelids felt heavy. 12 hours and 12 minutes later, we were landing at Heathrow!!
Our travel agent had booked us a transfer to our hotel with City Transfers UK. Normally we would make our own way, but at the end of a long-haul international journey and living Groundhog Day, I am all for someone taking me to our hotel. This would have been great if we then did not need to wait a further 2 hours for our pick-up. I rang the company provably 7 times and they only picked up one of those and said the driver would be with us in 10 minutes. 50 minutes later, still no driver. Then when we were patched through to the driver, he basically lied and said he had been ‘in the car park for a long while waiting on a call’. Except eagle-eyes Grant saw the carpark card he put in and he had literally only just gotten there. Ah well.
Half an hour later, we were checking into our beautiful Grange Strathmore in Queens Gate Gardens, showers were had and heads hit the pillows with extreme force!
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