13 Oct Sunday From England to Spain
Hate travel day. Nervously going through things, throwing away anything that could get smelly while I am away and wondering what I have forgotten to do.
I suffer from PMT (pre-migrational tension).
At least it started to rain and so going to the airport I could feel that I was escaping something, even when I had to walk through the rain to enter the terminal because the taxi doesn’t go to the door.
There was no one waiting in the check-in area so I wondered if I was late or early or it was the wrong day. I was the 5th from last person to check-in. I had arrived about one and a half hours before the flight, so nearly everyone one else had taken no chances of being late.
Went through security
Had to buy water which at £1.89 a bottle or £2 for the Sunday Telegraph with a bottle of water. Paid the extra 11p to have the newspaper, but wondered if I had been taken for a chump.
With the tension I felt I decided to do some exercises which amused a few on-lookers. Then saw two massage chairs which looked comfy. Sat in one to have my food. (The idea is that you put money in and rollers move around, but I found it very comfy without paying – except for the roller sticking in my back.) As I sat there eating a queue began to form at the gate. These were the passengers who had arrived in good time to check-in and were now forming a proper British queue even though the flight had not yet been called (as far as I was aware). They were taking no chances obviously.
I think it was half an hour before the staff arrived, and the aeroplane was disembarking the previous flight when my colleagues were forming their proper British queue.
I put my headphones on and had an idea. Would I be brave enough and silly enough to dance around the terminal?
It makes waiting in line a touch more interesting, don’t you think?
The evening air in Spain warmer than the day had been in UK. Before getting into the car I took off sweater and was more comfortable in just a short sleeve shirt. There has been very heavy rain here in the last week.
The pool needs pumping out. I can smell the damp.
At house searching for stuff that isn’t where I left it because it has all been cleaned and tidied. I have this dream that eveything will be where I left it, but it never is.
Only some of the shopping has been done so breakfast will be incomplete tomorrow.
The decompression and recompression plays havoc with my digestive tract. It is now 12.30 am UK time and 1.30 am Local time. I feel tired, achey and just a bit annoyed. Not bad really.
I need to buy another SIM (phone card) because the service I have does not allow me to order gas.