Sydney was grey and shrouded in mist and rain, a few bumps and then due to 'engineering difficuties' departure was delayed for three hours. Me and 150 others spent quite a bit of time wearing out the carpet in the departure lounge and admiring the aussie crap in the souvenier shops. Funny the snippets of conversation you hear, like the lady who was looking forward to getting her luggage off the 'caserole'.
Watched heaps of movies - Miss Potter, Kenny, Music and Lyrics and read. Very cool watching the flight thingee, bit hard to comprehend that the land mass and settlement you can vaguely see below you is Kabul, or Hamberg or Berlin.
The whole long haul flight thing is a bit strange. It's like you step into this alternative dimension and all that exists are the people on either side of you, the mum with the seven week old baby and the guy with the hairy ears.
But soon enough just as you get really sick of it, you realise the plane is in the holding pattern for Heathrow going round and round and then there is the leafy green of London and then all of a sudden you're through customs and sitting on the tube and its a very random weird feeling - all of a sudden I'm on the other side of the world and everything smells and sounds the same and I'm just another zombie on the tube.
Piccadilly line from Heathrow was fab actually, oh england. Terraced red brick houses, chimney stacks, back yards, allottments, old mans beard and foxgloves, litter, and then fresh air for the fist time in 35 hours, and then Victoria Station, a double decker bus and Amelia standing ready to meet me.
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