The Beginning

Well. it's 6am, I'm on the plane, and it's 1 hour to go to Dubai. I am a dried husk of a woman.

Had just found optimum sleeping position when they switched the lights on and insisted we eat muffins for breakfast. I just drank 2 litres of water, and am STILL thirsty!
Daddy seeing me off at the airport was lovely but terribly emotional as this is the first tme that I've taken a trip of longer than 3 weeks and suddenly didn't feel quite "ready" for it; so much of this trip is unknown and unplanned.....eek!!

Luckily my initial fright was was offset by incandescent public airport rage at stupid stupid barclays bank who have managed to leave me high and dry with no way to sort my cash out as they seem to have reset my passcodes for no apparent reason.. they told me not to worry as they are posting them to UK, where i won't be for 6 months, and then more unbeliveably asking me if there was anything else they could "help" me with. Still a good justified shout accompanied by vitriolic sarcasm at them really took the edge off the nerves.

now. perhaps i should try and remember what i did with Gregs number.