Hooooome... Soon

Just a few hours till I go to the airport and fly back home. I am ready to go home... sort of.´Aint it funny how going on a long weekend allows you to think more clearly, "I know I have to do this that and the other when I get home. Blah, blah, blah. I get all brave and determined... Or more likely, as soon as I get home, back to my familiar surroundings, my resolve will weaken...

My mum´s coming to stay so that should be fun... right? As long as we have no "why arent you married?" talks, then I´ll be fine...

PM

Mini nightmare.
remember the Nigerian trip (missed flight)? Remember the USA trip (interrogation by Ohio statetroopers/army folk/airport worker.
Why is it so impossible tfor me to just fly without the drama ai?? I suppose it's all writing material...

Okay.

I witness a 'racial incident' getting on the plane and alas, the police are waiting to interview me and others as the plane is grounded. That's okay, because I was willing to stand up and be counted especially as one of the awful exchanges, sounded like this;"If Hitler were alive, you wouldnt be here..."
Yes it was THAT bad.
The police had a word with me and I was on my merry way.

Or so I thought.

Ten minutes later standing by the carousel, waiting for The Delsey to swing on by so I could get out of there and re-equaint myself with London life, I was full of hope for doing just that.

20 minutes. Nothing.

30 minutes later. Nothing. Fellow passangers are dwindling, then it's just me and another equally bewidered looking bloke wondering around aimlessly on his mobile, scratching his head.
What the heck was going on?

40 minutes.
After locating a bored airline worker who raised anough excitement to tell me my luggae was 'probably still in Barcelona' I realised I was going back to my flat WITHOUT the tin of white asparagus, paella dish and chocolate desighner cords and instead, armed with a weakend worths of dirty washing.......!...