Fearing the worse with holiday travelers returning home and not wanting a repeat of that close-call getting to Gatwick like last time, I woke up early to pack.
After a quick brekkie, I was on my way. Nathan and Michelle walked me to the station. (bless) I can’t believe that that was a week! It flew by all too quickly.
On the Gatwick Express, I started to feel sentimental as I always do when I’m leaving somewhere. I gazed out my window as we sped by the London suburbs. I wondered about the different neighbourhoods and its residents, what the houses looked like from the inside, about the lives that were being lived.
I wondered if I can picture myself living day to day life here. I compared those speculations to my life in Vancouver and at that very moment, I felt deep down inside that Vancouver is where I should be right now.
After checking into the south terminal at Gatwick, I strolled around the airport, waiting for my gate to be announced. I like Gatwick airport because it’s is kinda like a mini-mall with Harrods, JD Sport, HMV, Next, Ted Baker, Marks & Spencers Simply Foods, Boots (if you’re stuck for last minute gifts), Wetherspoons, Shake A Hula and Apostrophes at the food court.
I was not really looking forward to the flight because I JUST got on London time and now I have to sit in a plane for the next 9.25 hours with 300 other people and deal with another bout of jetlag so soon again.
Flying home always seem to go by faster but this flight was rough. My germaphobic self was cringing every time I hear phlegmy coughs, dry hacks, wet sneezes and blowing of noses everywhere in the plane. For over 9 hours, I was stuck in a metal tube of contagion. There was no escape from all the germs floated around and being breathed in by the circulated cabin air. Ick.
I can live with being around friends and family who are sick and even take care of them happily at the risk of getting sick myself, but being around a ton of strangers who are harbingers of germs? I’d rather deal with crying babies on flights. Lots of them. Anytime.
So now that I’m home and quasi-unpacked, I’m bundled up sniffling, congested and about to chomp on vitamin C like they’re tictacs. It’s almost 11pm which means it’s 7am body time. I’ve been up for almost 24 hours. Despite the attractive mental image of me, I’m glad to be back and have the next few days to vegetate, I mean recuperate, before going back to work Monday.
However, I can do with a New Year’s hug right about now.
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