Evening flights literally kill me. How could I do this to myself?
This is the first and last time I fly out in the evening. All day I’ve been pacing around then lying around just waiting for the time to leave. We planned to leave for 17:00 but we actually left at 16:56, crazy. Even these four minutes gave me a flurry of excitement, I’ve been at bursting point all day and finally we were leaving behind our homes for a week of adventures in Poland. I’m not sure about everyone else but am I the only one that gets excitement wees? When ever I’m due to go out somewhere for a day or on holiday I just can’t stop going to the toilet. I’ll be asking myself constantly whether I have enough time to squeeze another wee out, challenging myself to do so before I’m due to leave. I’m sorry I’m sharing this all with you but now hopefully in the future you will understand my constant pre-adventure toilet trips.
Finally once at the airport I could settle down and really get into the mood for the travel ahead. I generally love airports, especially the people in them. Watching everyone interact with each other as they ready themselves for which ever destination they are due at leaves me feeling content, in this vast world many of us are moving constantly. I also have to note that if you haven’t recently travelled via London Stansted Airport they have really upped their game. The security check was top-level, everyone was walking straight up to place their items down then proceeded to walk smoothly through. In a time when I have felt like I have grown up with the popularity of air travel I can certainly notice the difference in queue times and organisation of airports.
The flight itself went by rather quickly, a total of two hours of which only felt like 30 minutes as I was in grossed within the world of the book I’m currently reading “Call Me by Your Name”.
A beautifully written story of passion, obsession, and possibly love. “Call Me by Your Name” is the story of a sudden and powerful romance that blossoms between an adolescent boy and a summer guest at his parents’ cliff-side mansion on the Italian Riviera. Unprepared for the consequences of their attraction, at first each feigns indifference but as you read deeper into this story you begin to understand the psychological maneuvers that accompany attraction. André Aciman has managed to shrewdly capture the frank, unsentimental, heartrending elegy to human passion.
Arriving in Wroclaw to -7 Celcius and snow lighty falling, we were met by our good friend Martyna whose dad was kindly dropping us off to Filip’s home on the outskirts of the city. With the excitment of starting our holiday, we quickly retired to ensure we built up our energy for the days ahead.
