After a super-early start yesterday, I actually made it to bed around midnight BST and pretty much adjusted myself to the time difference. I got to the airport in plenty of time to do my manual check in--which turned out to be about 30 seconds at a kiosk (swipe passport, enter last name, ticket prints out). So early was I that an hour and a half before boarding I started wondering why the check in crew hadn't arrived until I remembered my flight was at 9.35 not 8.35 am. By this point, I'd read one magazine already.
So now I am home--or rather with dear friends. It's always nice to be at this stage in the trip where everything lies ahead, even as I realize in the blink of an eye I'll be back. With this in mind, I savoured walking off the plane, the long walk to immigration, the quick scan of my passport and the familiar path down to customs. Even jetlag is acceptable when you know it is part of the hallmark of being home and having all those days in front of you.
I am currently staying with some of my dearest friends. We're going into Farnham soon--my first real trip out of their house since I've been back. The morning was spent talking. Two meals, one night, one morning down already. Time will certainly fly--that I know.
Laurel & Hardy in "The Devil's Brother" (1933)
7 hours ago