Finally got home <I have been playing airport lounge since Sunday lunchtime, so I am pretty much done>
I had my bag — I have seldom been so happy to see something yellow on a carousel. I have not seen that bag since Sunday morning, so I was pretty emotional about our reunion.
I am a guilty traveller. I always assume I have done something bad and it is just a matter of time before a custom official with a latex glove finds out.
At Heathrow, travelling back, I had to get out of my boots and take my belt off – there were no drinks involved, or mutual sexual attraction – it was me and the nice customs official. It is a challenge to hold your pants up and unpack your things out of the black plastic boxes, while trying to look nonchalant about the entire process.
My handbag = large really overpacked tote bag kept getting beeped, and they had to keep unpacking it. Of course I was then convinced that there was something smuggled in there. I started to look guilty. I started to act guilty. I started to sweat profusely.
They had also taken my deodorant can away, so really it was me and fast yellowing armpit shirt!
I get to the check in section and the man checking my passport directs me to a smaller-glassed-in-lounge away from the other passengers.
Me = sphincter a bit tighter than it was before.
I must confess I eventually begged ignorance and when my row was called for the flight I just stood up and walked out of the “holding area” and climbed on board.
I had a great seat. I had all my bits and bobs – which is unusual for me.
I had sufficient overhead space to shove my stuff in to.
I did not have clean underwear, but I had washed the pair I was wearing and was now wearing wet underwear. There were bright orange flight socks, which I was so excited to get in to – just so I could get my boots off and my no-longer-white-socks off my feet.
Ah the happiness. Really the happiness.
I was seriously stoked.
Flight was pretty good.
My best part was that Nicole the flight attendant who was serving my side, appears to be straight out of Mitchells Plain accent wise. I could not get enough of her. It was so disarming in comparison to the rather “british accents” I had been hearing for the past few days.
She also had no qualms about serving me repeatedly with little bottles of wine. Bless her.
It really was a good flight. Thanks SAA.
Got to carousel, security had two Beagles who hung around my baggage. The handler kept going: “Find it, find it!”
Me = very very tight sphincter ….
It appears Beagles do not find it.
I got my stuff and skipped through the “nothing to declare” section – they pulled over the two people in front of me for a quick “hey lets see what you got then.”
I might have squeaked in relief.
I got home. Finally.
Had a cuddle with Isabelle, a bath and then a nap – I would like to say it was a little nap, but it resembled a coma victim who had lost all control of their salivary glands. Pepe had to come and wake me up so I could go and fetch kids from school.
It was really great being away, but it is even better being back.