Feeling decidedly mañana this morning so I don't give a second thought to putting my packing on hold while Wendy and Bill stop by for coffee or Adam, Flo and Ella drop by later on to say hello. Plenty of time... flight isn't until mid-afternoon after all. For a week I had been gathering my belongings into little piles to go into my suitcase but even so, my nightmare is realised when I am still shoving things into my suitcase at 12:25pm when we are due to leave the house at 12:30pm. This is the first, and hopefully last time, I leave everything to the last minute. I get into the taxi flustered and stressing about the hundred things I've probably forgotten. Funny how even though you're travelling to another first-world country, you feel compelled to bring every last item of your own toiletries in case you should (gasp!) run out of toothpaste or shower gel during the trip.
We meet my dad at the airport as his flight is at the same time albeit on a different carrier. My mother tasks me with the important responsibility of keeping an eye on him while we're away. It starts with repacking his bags in the departure lounge to reduce the number of items he needs to carry. I inherit his raincoat which I must now carry to Cumbria before it can be reunited with its owner.
Finally wheels leave the tarmac and we're on our way.
21 hours later after innumerable movies, in-flight meals and snatched moments of restless sleep, crying babies, claustrophobia and general malaise, the pale dawn light of a London morning heralds our arrival.
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