The Journey Home

This is a picture of me enjoying my 'sundowner' at the Ritz Carlton on my last evening. Look how happy and relaxed I am. It was a completely different story 12 hours later...

After picking up a few final touristy tat things in the Bahrain duty free it was on to the plane for to go home. The flight was packed so my vain hope of having 2 whole seats to myself was dashed. The Geordie dude that was sitting next to me scoffed at my hopes, which I thought was a little mean so I stopped talking to him after that. At least I had the aisle seat though. Ha! In your face Geordie dude!

I had hoped to get some shut-eye on the plane but, alas, it was not to be. I managed to doze off for a bit while watching From Here to Eternity but I woke up when Frank Sinatra is handed the bum job because he's the last man left in the bunk house. I'm not sure how far into the film that is but after that there was nothing to be done, I was wide a-frickin-awake and not getting back to sleep any time soon. As my brain was total and utter mush by this point and, as the concept of radio plays or audio books seems to have been lost on whoever designed the in-flight entertainment system, the only thing I felt able to cope with were the kiddie movies. I got to watch Mulan and Shrek before we touched down in Schippol. (Did I spell that right? I have no idea...)

I'd left Bahrain at 00:10 local time and arrived in Schippol at around 5:30am local time. Goodness knows what the hell time my internal clock thought it was. Time for caffeine is the closest I could get. Time also for decent food seeing as the gluten-free option on the flight back was, if anything, worse than the one on the incoming flight. Yeeeuch! I managed to get my mitts on a big ol' Diet Coke and a BLT, which a scoffed while watching the sun come up over Holland. Pink sky - very pretty. That's all my brain could register unfortunately.

After a while I noticed that if I sat or stood still I experienced a feeling not unlike being on the temporary seating they use during The Festival when someone is walking up the stairs. There was a vague, rhythmic bouncy sensation going through my body but I knew I wasn't bouncing so goodness knows what the heck it was. Probably the blood pumping up and down my spinal column or something, it was well weird!

I found myself one of those comfy lounge seats to, well, lounge on but I didn't stay on it for very long because I got paranoid about falling asleep and missing my flight and being one of those "Oi! We're chucking your bags off the plane" announcements. Unfortunately, when I found the gate my flight was departing from there were no seats nearby. What's that all about?? There were lots of seats on the other side of the security gate but none right outside. I almost cried when I realised I was going to have to stand in a big queue in order to get on to the plane. Once through the security check I can assure you I had a blimming good sit down!

The flight back to Edinburgh was fairly uneventful, apart from being stiffed on the coffee front again. The people in front of our row got coffee and the people behind our row got coffee but coffee we got none. I was too whacked out to care by that point though. I usually get a lovely sense of coming home when I look out of a plane window and see Edinburgh spread out below me but, due to being physically wrecked and sat in an aisle seat, I didn't have that feeling this time. I was quietly grateful to get my luggage back in one piece and pass unmolested through the 'Nothing to Declare' channel though so I was counting my blessings. Emerging from the airport into the crisp Edinburgh air was a different story though. I still had on my linen trousers and KG espadrilles so it was a bit of a shock to the system to say the least. Brrrrrr! I'd just missed a bus back into the city too so I was not the happiest of campers.

However, on the bus back into the centre of town my civic pride and sense of homecoming was restored. There were a couple of loud Ozzies on the bus who had obviously just arrived for their first trip to Edinburgh. From around when we passed the zoo at Corstorphine they did not have enough nice things to say about the place and did declare that they were getting 'a good vibe'. I started to look forward to the point when the bus would reach Princes Street and they would get their first view of the castle. I was not disappointed. Their awe was most gratifying but I was amused by one of their comments about how unfriendly Castle Rock looked. I couldn't help but comment to the chap next to me that was the whole point of sticking the castle there. Maybe I should have told the Ozzies? Anyway, I was so proud to live in Edinburgh at that point it made coming home that little bit sweeter. They say it's nice to go away but it's nice to come home again and I'd say that was doubly true when you live somewhere as gorgeous as Edinburgh :o)