I had an interesting journey. I felt like fighting the system a little bit because I had a connecting flight at Sandefjord - I got off one plane and into a really small airport and straight through security again. They picked up on the X-ray that my bag had my water in it from the flight. They said I couldn’t take it with me. I said why. They said its over 100ml. I said I’ve just come off a plane about 3 minutes ago, why can’t I take that water with me that has just been on an aeroplane and it was bought at the previous airport after my security check? I mean we landed didn’t we? You’re not allowed she said. I said whatever but I’m going to charge you for my new water and also for a tree I will be planting for all the unnecessary damage you are doing to the environment. Have a good day.

Okay that last bit didn’t happen.

Feeling pissed off I made my way straight to the gate - through expensive duty free goodies (I have no money) and found my gate. In the corner was one very expensive vending machine. Slowly I made my way over as I pictured selecting a big bottle of water, running onto a runway and dosing myself in water and chanting b*witched lyrics. Treat me like a security threat. Ill show you a security threat! “C’est La Vie! C’est La Vie!!!!!!”

Brought back to the present as the guy in front grabbed his coke. I put my money in and selecting water.

SOLD OUT.

Well I know why that is! Fucking hell… Life is slowly returning to normal as I leave a great couple of weeks behind. I select Fanta instead because I’m feeling fruity and CLUNK it drops out.

CLUNK another one drops out. 2 FANTAS fucking yes! Thanks karma I will never let something so petty get to me again! (It’s the little things in life isn’t it?) Look at me now ‘poor-english security lady’ I’m taking 1 litre of liquid onto a plane. BOOM.

Flight was rough as we touched down in London. I was pretty sure the pilot was new- his English wasn’t great and therefore through my own biased judgement based on solely his poor English I concluded he must be shit at every other aspect of his life, including landing planes - in particular, the one I was on. 

After thinking that Karma was yet again catching up with me as I had 1 litre of Fanta in my system (to anyone who is unsure that is ALOT of air) and turbulance that made the view outside rock back and forth underneath us, we landed. 

Caught the National Express bus service and helped an old lady from the terminal- I blame the two Fantas. I’m never usually helpful.

Now I’m sat sweating in this human oven of a coach with a bus driver that was being a little bitch because I had my ticket on my iPhone. “You know, I’ve been told you have to print them, and if you don’t you can’t travel” he said in a degrading fashion as he carried my bag to the coach.

“Are you aware of a little something called 2013? Yes, it’s the year we are in and I know you are probably stuck living in 1973 judging on your cigar breath and yellow fingertips (that touched my iPhone!), but things change, this is an iPhone. If you insult my iPhone, you insult me.”

Nearly home now. My left side is numb but I don’t think it’s a stroke because I’m super quick at typing #winning. Thankfully I’ll be free from the body odour and Quavers aroma that is strangely making me hungry.

Until next time National Express.