Going Home

Yesterday I made the trip to Maryland via Heathrow starting at 5:30 in the morning. Seán and I were already up because we were on the sleep schedule from hell, so we packed up my suitcase and headed to Glasgow airport.


The airport was very sleepy in the morning, not many people passing through security, so it only took me a moment. That left me with an hour and a half to kill before my flight, so I got breakfast and then had myself a little dance party to Over and Done With by the Proclaimers.


The flight to Heathrow was uneventful, I slept through most of it because by that point I was exhausted. Heathrow is one of the biggest airports in the world, the terminal I was in almost dwarfing the entirety of BWI.



I was flagging after a few hours, though, so I bribed myself to stay awake by wandering around the shops and eventually picking up a black and red sparkly nail polish by OPI from the Duty Free shops.


Still, I somehow managed to stay awake enough to get on my plane. Once on it, though, I was out like a light for a few hours, only waking up when we were served a late afternoon lunch.




By the time we were taxi-ing on the runway I was chomping at the bit to get home. Equal parts restless and exhausted, I jumped off the plane and was one of the first through customs. After collecting my bag I passed through security only to be stopped because I had alcohol in my bag (a bottle of whisky for my older brother.) Oddly, the security guard stopped me, took my passport and said “You aren’t twenty-one. You can’t have alcohol.” and then proceeded to put the bottle back in my bag and give it to me. Alright cool, I guess I can.

Once I met my dad at the airport, though, everything was fine. We went straight home for dinner (beef stew- my request) and I distributed gifts to all my family.

It is so good to be home.

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About Mary Rose

A student blogger with a passion for travel, tea, and the art world. I’m also a published short fiction and poetry writer, an amateur photographer, and a burgeoning wine snob.
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