I lost an
entire weekend on my journey home from the States. When I flew out there I left
at 5am on Sunday morning and arrived at 11am on Sunday, giving me a full extra
day to play with while I settled in. Going back the other way, I flew at noon
on Saturday and I landed in Singapore at 1am on Monday morning. Brutal! Especially
as I am writing this at my desk at 9am on Monday. No rest for the wicked!
For some reason, the airport was
absolutely jam-packed when I landed after 24 hours of travel, with no make up
on and incredibly gross hair! Sometimes you can pass through arrivals in no
more than two minutes, but this time around I was in queues for a good 20
minutes before joining the back of the longest taxi queue I have even seen
there. It was looking like I would be waiting in the queue for at least an
hour, but by some small miracle, I lucked out!
Nick had been in Thailand for some
60th birthday celebrations all weekend, and whilst I knew that he
was due to land at a similar time to me, I assume that he would be out of the
airport and home well before my baggage had even arrived in the hall. Added to
that, his phone had died while he was away, and so we had been out of
communication for most of the weekend so I didn’t even think to check if he had
been held up or if he was still making his way back when I landed.
However, by some small miracle (and
probably mostly thanks to the huge taxi queues), when I joined the end of the
seven line long selection of miserable, tired looking people (which would have
taken at least an hour if not more to get to) I heard Nick calling me from the
very front of the queue. What are the chances?! I nipped through all the lines,
making everyone incredibly mad at me, and managed to shorten my journey by about
half an hour. It’s not a huge saving of time, but it made all the difference.
It’s good to be home!
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