I was up to watch the sun rise...and on a Monday morning, nogal! I Skyped with the kids before they left for school, finished packing, sipped some tea while watching the butterflies playing in the garden and even caught some Test cricket (eek!) before the day had really begun.
Saying farewell to Dan and Tim in Norfolk was short 'n sweet. Uncle Ed drove like the wind to get me across to London Heathrow by 2.45pm. We even enjoyed soup bowl sized coffee at Costa before I hugged them goodbye and walked through to the first round of security checks. By the time I'd collected all of my things, the board signalled that my boarding gate was CLOSING!
You know when you're running...and you're thinking..."I should not be running - mostly because it's not one of my strengths"...but you know you just have to run...so you run...and then when you get to where you need to be, you stop and your lungs feel as though they're going to explode right out of your chest????
To top it off, I was about no.134 in the queue at my boarding gate - so that gate wasn't going to close any time soon.
The first leg of the trip was lovely - warm sunshine streaming through from outside, good flight entertainment, a window seat, some friendly neighbours, a decent meal, a quick time lapse et al. As soon as we started to prepare for our landing in Dubai though, I knew I was about to break into yet another sprint.
With just 40 minutes between my flight touching down and my connecting flight heading off to Cape Town, I had to ensure that I got out of the plane and across the airport really quickly. I head off at my fastest transit pace, using my best middle of the night manners to squeeze past sleepy passengers taking a leisurely stroll (obviously, on one of those in-9hours'time-connections). All the halls looked the same and without clear instruction... and I started to panic.
Then, I heard a voice up ahead "Connecting... Cape Town...Anyone connecting to Cape Town?..." and I breathed a huge sigh of relief. In their wisdom, Emirates had sent young ground staff steward, Kareem, down to our gate, to personally escort us across terminals - to ensure that we found our way in time. Well done, Emirates and thank you God!
As promised, once I'd settled into my new seat - in the middle (bleh) - I prepared for a snooze. I could finally relax. But now my legs were tired of being bent at a 90 degree angle and started to cramp up. My bare arms quickly recognised the airplane aircon and my dry throat begged for a cup of warm tea - even thought it was 3.30am in the morning.
I just needed to get through the next 9 hours and then I'd find my Dear Husband on the other side...
Saying farewell to Dan and Tim in Norfolk was short 'n sweet. Uncle Ed drove like the wind to get me across to London Heathrow by 2.45pm. We even enjoyed soup bowl sized coffee at Costa before I hugged them goodbye and walked through to the first round of security checks. By the time I'd collected all of my things, the board signalled that my boarding gate was CLOSING!
You know when you're running...and you're thinking..."I should not be running - mostly because it's not one of my strengths"...but you know you just have to run...so you run...and then when you get to where you need to be, you stop and your lungs feel as though they're going to explode right out of your chest????
To top it off, I was about no.134 in the queue at my boarding gate - so that gate wasn't going to close any time soon.
The first leg of the trip was lovely - warm sunshine streaming through from outside, good flight entertainment, a window seat, some friendly neighbours, a decent meal, a quick time lapse et al. As soon as we started to prepare for our landing in Dubai though, I knew I was about to break into yet another sprint.
With just 40 minutes between my flight touching down and my connecting flight heading off to Cape Town, I had to ensure that I got out of the plane and across the airport really quickly. I head off at my fastest transit pace, using my best middle of the night manners to squeeze past sleepy passengers taking a leisurely stroll (obviously, on one of those in-9hours'time-connections). All the halls looked the same and without clear instruction... and I started to panic.
Then, I heard a voice up ahead "Connecting... Cape Town...Anyone connecting to Cape Town?..." and I breathed a huge sigh of relief. In their wisdom, Emirates had sent young ground staff steward, Kareem, down to our gate, to personally escort us across terminals - to ensure that we found our way in time. Well done, Emirates and thank you God!
As promised, once I'd settled into my new seat - in the middle (bleh) - I prepared for a snooze. I could finally relax. But now my legs were tired of being bent at a 90 degree angle and started to cramp up. My bare arms quickly recognised the airplane aircon and my dry throat begged for a cup of warm tea - even thought it was 3.30am in the morning.
I just needed to get through the next 9 hours and then I'd find my Dear Husband on the other side...
And loving children! Welcome home.
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