Leaving Day

Leaving day finally came after a painfully slow summer. We flew from Heathrow after spending a brilliant weekend in London. We stocked up on Burger King meals and Krispy Creme dohnuts at the airport, fearing we would never see such delights again once we left the Western world. I stuffed myself like it was my last meal, fearing the unknown food in Hong Kong. I was almost disappointed when we arrived and realised that it was actually more developed than home. A little bit of research into the country may have been a good idea. The flight went slowly, particularly because every single person on the plane seemed to be asleep except for me. I was well prepared with a bag full of excitment that would have kept me entertained for hours, but the minute I switched on my supposedly subtle reading lamp it illuminated the cabin like a flood lit football pitch and blinded me in the process. So, out of courtesy for my fellow passengers and also for the benefit and safety of my eyesight, I opted for sitting in the dark, impatiently waiting for sleep to make a welcome visit. But in the fight between Excitement and Sleep, Excitement won hands down. Excitement kicked Sleep's bum and I sat there like an excitable little bomb, ready to explode. Maybe not the best metaphor when sat on a plane. After 12 long hours, we finally arrive

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