I promised myself when I decided to blog about my journey that I’d remain true to myself and be as candid as possible.
Well, today is departure day and safe to say that my cool, calm demeanor from the last week has crumbled quicker than a Corbyn-led UK government. I’m bricking it and have now officially lost count of the number of nervous wee’s I’ve done. TMI? Soz. The arrival of Storm Erik (the name of which I’m assuming was coined by some drippy weatherman) is definitely not helping, as currently envisaging that the takeoff will be like taking a joy ride in a washing machine, minus the suds and fairy freshness.
Alas, there’s no turning back now. The only positive thing about my current situation is that the airport bar serves an ice cold Sancerre and it’s going down VERY well... 🥴✈️🇿🇲