t5

For the observant among you, I have been away. I went back to the motherland for what I'd call a weekend. Someone from work called it a honeymoon. In that case I'd call it a rip off.

So here you are, a Twitteresque feed of the flight home:
19.38 check in. You have to do it by computer. Fumble around looking for booking ref, BA frequent flyer card.
19.45 fast bag drop. Not fast. Bag, no! ~the lady was lovely@! And the drop more like strained thump. Bag is 28 kilos. 25 pounds please.
19.50 queuing up to pay for excess baggage. At least BA then take it off your hands. My therapist makes me take it home with me.
19.55 still queuing. Arab mother and daughter who speak no English can’t work out what they’re doing. Keith behind desk having a problem with the airlock chute.
20.00 all ok. Decide to enter duty free lounge from the other end. After a long walk, realize other entrance is for first class only. It’s like you’re back at school and been rejected by all your peers. You’re just not good enough. Did you think you were good enough?
20.10 Back down at the plebs end, long queue.
20.20 After queue jumping a large Chinese family to passport control, now waiting in line for x-ray.
20.35 Everybody else’s cosmetics are in a plastic bag. Mine were checked luggage. Everyone else has taken off and are carrying their high heels. My shoes are still on foot. I am not a lady.
20.36 It occurs to me that actually I have overpaid for a second ticket on this flight, one which we are not using since my husband preferred a Malev to Budapest, and that in fact, BA OWE ME!!!! Or at least I should have a free seat next to me. I am such a MUG!
20.40 Felt up by security after beeping through. When I asked her if it was good for her, she doesn’t laugh. She must get that a lot. Cringe.
20.50 I’ve bought 2 books (one chick lit and one on mormon polygamy) (i love mormon polygamy!), chocolate, water, and a sandwich.
20.51 Find the comfy sofas and read til its time to board the flight.
22.00 Boarding. Find seat. Look at lady in front of me who is wearing a bandanna weirdly. That bitch has the empty seat that belongs to my husband next to her!
22.10 My neighbour arrives. I look up briefly. That woman in front is holding a dead long-haired rat in the safety information card. Confused. Back to Marian Keyes.
22.30 We’re in the air. I look down at London (well, more possibly, Slough). It looks gorgeous. Don’t know when I’ll be back here again. Feel my guts wrenched out of me and falling away to the ground below.
22.31 Shut eyes. Sleep.
05.05 Frantic rubbing of arm. Through blur can see non-gay air steward. SEAT. BACK. UPRIGHT.
05.10 As soon as you can make out Reading, you can work out where everything else is. EXCEPT FOR I HAVE THE WING BLOCKING EVERYTHING IN MY VIEW. And we’re coming in slightly further south than other landings. We fly over Ramat Gan.
05.15 Landed. Everybody up (this is Israel! We never wait until the aircraft is safely docked at the gate!) Woman in front is WEARING her long haired rat. Oh, so she’s religious.
05.38 After a long hike, arrive at passport control which is typically heaving BUT OF COURSE NOT TODAY because I finally did the hand identification passport control on the way out to save myself the queue….AND THERE IS NO BLOODY QUEUE!
05.39 Brain can't work out how to do the hand press. Eventually get it on 4th attempt: one must squeeze one's fingers together.
05.45 Collecting the duty free we bought on the way out. Cigarettes, check. Hair straighteners, check. Bug box, check. What the hell was in that bug box? Its covered in ladybirds and Amit will later ask me if the box is full of ladybirds. Yes, dear, your father and I thought it would be best to buy a box of ladybirds.
06.00 Taxi home. I am quiet. Taxi driver has the urge to talk. Taxi driver explains that he has to work a 14 hour shift in order to put food on his table. The first 8 hours he works he doesn’t actually make any money on. Compare it to a black cab, he says, he charges a third of the price. He blames the government. I really care. He gets a 5 shekel tip.
06.20 Key in lock. Home.