This morning I left my B&B in London a little before eight am, and boarded my plane a little after ten. I arrived back in the states, New York more specifically, sometime shortly after twelve-thirty. And this is why I love time. For when looking at it this way, the flight only took a few hours,when obviously it took longer than that. Closer to eight hours, in fact. Yet here I am, eating lunch, enjoying the afternoon before I board my next flight, when I realize it is really around seven pm to me. Yes, I’ve decided to keep my watch on UK time, just to mess with my self.
This is still no where near as strange as going over, when I left the Midwest around 11 am, arrived in London the next day around ten am, and then at eleven that evening boarded a night train to Edinburgh, where I arrived around seven am. And while I did get a little sleep on the train, I got none the night before on the plane. I felt as if I hadn’t slept for days, which I pretty much hadn’t. Yet despite all that, I still handled the jet lag pretty damn well, if I say so myself. On those days between traveling without sleep, I still managed to haul around about fifteen pounds of luggage as I spent hours in the underground in London, and walked miles around Edinburgh.
So what is my point in all of this? Just killing time in the airport as I wait for my next flight, really. Yep.
I’ll get more into my actuall trip later, and not just talk about transportation. But I can’t promise it won’t come up again. A lot.
