Back in Blighty

Flashback: Thursday, July 29, 2004

Landing at Heathrow for the second time ever is not as exciting as the first. Perhaps I'm feeling reluctant to return to the mega-city lifestyle, and the knowledge that my vacation is winding up.

The woman at the Immigration and Customs desk seemed surprised, and even pleased, when I stated Bath as my intended tourist destination. It must get boring to hear responses like "Tower of London" or "Windsor Castle" all the time.

In the baggage area, there is another high school band, this time returning from their own trip to Iceland. The baggage carousel was never designed for their oddly-shaped instrument cases, and each one slams into the metal siding with a loud dissonant clang as it drops down, and misses the rubber bumpers. On top of that, their electronic equipment got a good soaking while sitting in the rain, on the tarmac at Keflavík.

I had decided to travel light for the remainder of this trip, and would leave all the warm/heavy Icelandic gear at the airport until returning home, rather than trying to lug it back into town, around the country, and across the Channel.
(Tactical Travel Error #2a - if you leave baggage at the airport, you should leave it at the terminal building from which you will be departing later!)

It took a bit of time to re-arrange my packing, make sure I had everything I would need for the next three days, and then hand over my large bag at the left luggage counter. Then it was back to the Heathrow Express, and downtown London. With the sight of the Metropolitan police marching through the terminal building, machine pistols at the ready, the return is complete.

Piccadilly Circus