Day 39 - Departure

I had planned on writing this entry while waiting at Heathrow, but they only give you 45mins of free wifi! So instead I hand-wrote it, and am just now posting it up.

The British Studies Program was providing free coaches to Heathrow for all the students, however since I booked my flight on my own, I would've had to be there over 7 hrs early if I took a coach, so I made my own way there. As it was, I was there four hours early but that is more doable and I'd rather spend those hours in London itself rather than being stuck in an airport where there isn't much to do except shop and sit.

In the morning I made my way to the 8am Mass at Westminster Cathedral. The last few days have been bookends to the first few days in London, so I finished it off by also going to church on both my first and last Sundays in London. Then I grabbed a quick breakfast at Waterloo (a Krispy Kreme donut - they have those here, but no Dunkins yet!) Back at the flat there was time for me to do a quick check of the room and I did find one thing hiding under the bed.

My "posh luggage" all ready to depart:

 Leaving Block 7 ( the terminology "block" makes me think of a prison block, not a dorm, but maybe that's just me!):

Check out time was 10am, so I reluctantly began the journey home. Catherine had purchased a return ticket for the Heathrow Express, before we learned about the coaches, and she was wicked nice and gave it to me to use. There was only one small staircase to negotiate getting on the Bakerloo line towards Paddington and a very nice man did grab a bag - it, of course, was the larger one!

To me, airports are synonymous with waiting. I had to wait an hour to drop my checked luggage off, since I was a tad bit early. Although that wait did involve an adorable little girl toddling over to me with a huge smile on her face, and then proceed to have fun pulling everything out of my bag - it was a cute moment and her parents were so embarrassed but it was fine! Then once through security it was just waiting at the gate to board. And then on the plane you wait until the runway is clear to take off. The view out the window personified how I felt about leaving:

The flight itself was fine, just interminably long, and it does take an hour longer going home than coming, but that hour always seems to stretch out even longer. Coming in to land, there was a great view flying in over Castle Island looking in from the harbor at the city, which almost made up for the long flight. Of course I now wish I had thought to have my camera out to capture it in a picture. That was something though that I made a conscious decision about this trip, to not be constantly documenting things from behind a camera lens and instead to just remember and live in the moment. Which has led to a few regrets of pictures missed.

And now I am home, my real home, but London will always be a home to me as well. I can't wait to get back.