On a standby flight means being there early, so this morning I was first up and, having packed the night before in a chocolate frog-fuelled rage, left the house before seeing anyone else. My flight was at midday (I hoped) and then the team’s flight was at midnight, so they had another 12 hours to play in Tokyo.
I set off with plenty of time but somehow managed to luck onto a train that changed its stripes three times as it snaked its way under and across the city, all the way to the airport door! Complete luck, but very convenient!
However, now wearing jeans and a thick shirt to combat the plane air conditioning, it was a little hot on a packed commuter train. This led to me having to get off and sit on the windy platform till the next airport express came along, waiting for the nausea to pass. Not something I get very often anymore, but no breakfast, a hot crowded train and windows too low to look out from my lofty heights all played a part.
But disembarking from the train, I went in search of the final Eki stamps and found them on the ticketed side of the gates. Luckily a kind train guard let me through the gate without paying, long enough to collect them. I glued in and noted the last few things with a coffee later to complete my stamp scrapbook for this trip.
I spent my time in the lounge watching the planes take off and having a bite to eat before my flight. This time I was not lucky enough to get business; in fact I was all the way out the back of the plane on the last row of seats. This was fine because I could put my seat back without worrying about anyone behind me.
The plane took off, as I expected it would when it reached the end of the runway. The next 14 hours consisted of writing blogs, playing the Metro game on my phone and watching films.
Don’t bother with Fackham Hall, it’s terrible. The attempted humour is only appealing to the least educated in society. But I did watch the F1 movie and that was actually quite good.
I was actually pleasantly surprised that my knees were not touching the seat in front while sat in economy class. Even still, after 10 hours of sitting in the seat, I needed to stretch my legs so went and stood at the back. The air hostesses were very kind to allow me to stand there, trying my best to keep out of the way. I ended up having about an hour’s conversation with another traveller about all sorts of things; buying houses and how long solicitors take, writing journals and blogs, drone racing, solar panels and heat pumps, all sorts!
Unfortunately all good things must come to an end and so, as the Tube train spat me out of Heathrow Airport, I got my first taste of life back in the UK. Hatton Cross is one tube stop from the airport and cost me £4.70 whereas in Tokyo that would have been 48p. Not only is it a rip off it smells like tramp piss and looks like the ceiling is falling in. Take me back to the clean and air conditioned metro trains where I can stand up without banging my head. Where every street is swept clean and the roads are smooth and congestion free.
But just an hour up the motorway I had a glimmer of light on this grey island. Kayto was waiting to be picked up at Granny and Grandad’s house. And they even had a sausage and bacon sandwich waiting for me.
The UK ain’t so bad.
