Take off

Taken from the journal I intended to update daily, then abandoned 2 weeks later...

I've just realised the enormity of what I decided to do. Squashed my life into 33.7kg, reorganised it into 31.9kg in front of hundreds of people at the airport, and off I went. Well, off I went after a flood of tears.

I was THAT person at the airport, the one with the open suitcase, bras and undies flying everywhere as they try to lighten their bag to the satisfaction of the tired but firm check-in girl.
I was also THAT person at the airport, wailing and carrying on at the Departures gate, then continuing to sob all the way through Customs (I swear they must receive training that enables them to detach from any sort of emotion), and even on the plane. I remember saying to the guy next to me, "you're sitting in my friend's seat." Don't quite know what he thought of me when I did that.

The memorable parts of the journey were spending the 6 hour layover in Kuala Lumpur airport trying not to look at flights back to Sydney, listening to "Steer" by Missy Higgins on the second leg of the flight and declaring it as my anthem for the trip, and, most memorable moment of all, touching down at Heathrow at exactly 4:04pm (the OCD part of me feels that anything associated with the number 4 is good).

I was met by the parents of a friend, bundled into a car, and that was it.

I woke the next morning, to a bright, sunny Surrey day. Welcome to England.