In contrast to my visit to the same hall a few days ago almost every security check-point was operating and I navigated through to flight side swiftly and without getting completely undressed. Without time for a real breakfast I bought the best alternative, a bottle of water and a rice krispies caramel square, the food of legends! Boarding was called, I boarded and fell asleep. The rest of the flight was a series of momentary waking glimpses of a fluffy cloud base far below obscuring the land further below. I shrugged and dozed off again. A pair of suited business types sitting directly behind me chatted incessantly about sailing and associated watery activities and for some reason instigated brief dreams involving a cockney snake with a hat and arms who sang like Michael Buble. I was grateful when the captain announced our imminent landing and pretended not to notice the dried drool on the side of my face and stared out of the window as Winchester and Eastleigh flashed beneath as we rapidly approached.
The landing was better than the one at Glasgow the previous evening but I didn't care. The baggage took some time to arrive, I had to get to work so I looked at my watch frequently, it didn't make any difference. Finally, with my red backpack slipping off my shoulder I exited the baggage hall and, thankfully, my dad was waiting. My Shetland adventure was over and it was time to slip back into the routine of boring, tedious, day-to-day, hum-drum, work type stuff. Roll on Up-Helly-Aa in January.
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