|Posted by goofingaroundinasia on September 28, 2009 at 2:55 AM|
I had never gone back home after a "holiday" with such mixed feelings. On the one hand one year had been a long time and I was really looking forward to see my friends and family again and recharge the batteries, but on the other hand I realised my trip had come to an end and I would miss Efrata.
Anyway, on September 14 I woke up, thanked Nabil for his hospitality and took the Skybus to the airport. There my plane left at 4pm for London and the flight would take 13 hours.
When AirAsia started flying to London in March, I had immediately booked my ticket as there were promotions - my ticket from Kuala Lumpur was only EUR 171 (!).
I prepared for a long journey... tried to sleep a bit, read half of my book, watched a movie and did a lot of thinking. Then the captain announced we were about to land... I was happily surprised that we were already there It was 10PM... the same day, as I had gone 7 hours back in time.
Going through customs in the UK was a big confrontation again with our whiny, cranky society. A small plastic had come out (loose) of my passport, I had just put it in again, no big deal. The guy wasn't friendly at all and asked me what had happened to my passport. When I told him it came out he promply replied "it doesn't just come out! You should have your passport replaced, don't ever travel with this passport again!". I was doubting what to do - telling him he's a grumpy asshole and that he doesn't have to work the fact that he hates his job and probably his life alltogether too on me... ? Instead I grumbled, nodded and walked on as soon as I got my stamp. I didn't want to risk trouble at the end of my journey... The hell I will get a new passport, pay for a new passport because of some stupid plastic (that's still inside anyway). No no no
Everything went smoothly. Got my luggage, went to the National Express bus office and bought my ticket to London Heathrow (I had arrived in Stansted) - about GBP 22, had to get used to life here being a lot more expensive (I was used to paying no more than US$ 10 for a long bus journey...
Had to wait for another hour, then boarded the bus to Heathrow. There I went to the departure hall. It was only about 2.30AM and my flight to Brussels would go at 11.50AM, so I had a lot of time to kill. There were people sleeping here and there and I decided to try to do the same. The chairs were very uncomfortable though, the armrests poked in my back... but I managed to sleep a few hours. I woke up when some noisy British guys checked in for their early flight.
I couldn't sleep anymore, so decided to watch another movie. When the movie ended it was about 7AM. I got really bored and tired...
At 9.30AM the check-in for my flight opened. I checked in, dropped my bag and had some breakfast. Then I lazed around for another while and boarded the plane. The plane left in time (fortunately) and landed at about 2PM in Brussels.
It was great to see my mum and her husband Marc again. However, being back in Belgium was strange... It all looked so familiar, it was like I never left. I sure felt like people who have done long trips before had told me - when you return after a long trip, you will notice that nothing and nobody back home will have changed; you have lived a totally different live and you're the one who has changed...
Of coure I had many stories to tell, then they dropped me off at my place. It was quite a surprise to see my dad there, he had come over to see me and would stay a few days.
Well back home... on to trying to re-adjust