September 26th 2017
Today I’m on a plane on the way back from Rhodes. We just landed on the runway. Nobody clapped, thankfully. I hate it when they clap. We left Rhodes 4 hours ago. We left our hotel 3 hours before that. We’re not going to be back at our house for another 3 hours. That’s tough to deal with.
This is our pilot.
Plane ride was okay. Watched The Grand Budapest Hotel and Whiplash.
We’ve just got off the plane, and have to get one of those buses to the terminal. I hate those buses. You could walk the distance in fifteen seconds but you have to get a bus, for some reason.
Customs and security was easy enough, except for the strong correlation between people who are eligible for a state pension and people who don’t know how to use those ePassport machines.
That technology is great and all, but I feel like it came a generation too early, if you know what I mean.
Baggage reclaim was painless as well. On the other side, however, in Rhodes, we’d managed to overpack the suitcase by 2kg, so had to stand there, in the queue, decanting* our clothes from luggage to hand baggage.
*(I’m aware that that word can only be used for liquids, but I’m sure it’ll do in this particular circumstance)
Oh no. We got on the wrong bus. We were supposed to get a shuttle bus back to the car park, but we got on the wrong shuttle bus to take us back to the car park. So now we’re at the wrong car park.
That’s annoying. Whoops. I’ll take the blame for that one (because it was largely/completely my fault)
We’re on the right bus now.
Until tomorrow, now for the drive home.