This evening I’m flying back to the UK for my grandmother's funeral. I didn't have a chance for breakfast of dinner, so I was feeling a bit shaky. I got to the airport with two suitcases and my rucksack. Oh, the joys of travelling alone. The wheels on the suitcases weren't cooperating, so I had to drag them along behind me. I must have looked a real state. At the check in desk the woman insisted that I join the frequent flyer club and I didn't have the energy to resist. But my hands were so shaky that my handwriting was illegible.
I went upstairs to the waiting lounge and tried to find something for dinner. Everything in the restaurant was ridiculously overpriced so I tried the Duty Free shop. Maltesers! I didn't know you could get them in Rwanda. And for only six dollars. What a bargain. With dinner sorted I sat and waited for my plane.
Now I don't tend to have the best luck on public transport. The woman in front of me put her chair down to the horizontal position so that she could sleep. Not having much room now I did the same, but the guy behind me didn't appreciate it. So he yelled at me for about 5 minutes about how selfish I am. I was so tired from all the travelling and upset about my grandmother that I put my chair up, wrapped my pashmina over my head and burst into tears.
And I was dehydrated. Imagine. I’ve been on the bus for over a week now, not knowing when I’ll have access to a toilet. It's thirty degrees but I’ve not been drinking. And you're not allowed to take water onto the plane. So every tens minutes I go to the back of the plane to get a couple of those little sealed plastic water cups. At about 2 am I went back to my seat with the cups, put them down and scooched over. But clumsy as I am, I fell and landed butt first on the water. So I sat in the wet until morning. Sucky.
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