Home sweet home!

Monday, 15. September 2009.
I get off at Heathrow, find a nice breakfast caffè and try to find their vegetarian options on the menu. The food is good, the service is fast and I am hungry, so that sounds like a winning combination to me. Less winning is the price, since everything is in pounds and expensive, but oh well. I have some pounds I got from a mailorder customer and I shall spend them someday, right? So that day may just as well be today.
I dwell a little longer since I have several hours to kill before my flight. I get my novel drafts and manage to write a couple of chapters.
The I move to a different area of the lounge and try to find a free internet connection, but to no avail. Well, since there's no internet and I haven't slept much on the plane, I set the alarm clock in a couple of hours from now and take a nap on the seat.
Some Scandinavian family with 3 kids is pretty loud next to me, but I'm more tired than they're loud, so I manage to fall asleep.
You know the feeling when you wake up, open your eyes and the people in the picture you see are completely different from the ones you saw before closing your eyes. That's when you start wondering "How long have I been sleeping?" and the fear of losing your flight overwhelmes you.
I reach into my pocket and well, it's only been an hour, so I'm quite ahead of the schedule.
I walk around, check out some duty free shops and then embark for one last time on this trip. This time the destination is - Rome.
I get to Rome in the afternoon. The weather is beautiful, with odd cloud here and there. I get my backpack after a while, but the bicycle box isn't showing up.
I stop an airport employee and ask him about the box. He goes to check and tells me there is none.
Fine. British Airways has lost my bike!
I go to the lost baggage counter and fill out a claim. They take my details and tell me they'll call me when they fine the box and will deliver it using a freight company.
Now that I think of it, it's not such a bad thing after all. It definitely saves the trouble of loading it into my car which would be a real mission impossible (it barely fit in those huge American cars, let alone it'd fit in my small Nissan Micra).
My mom is waiting at the airport. It's good to see her and I'm surprised how she hasn't said anything about me being at least 6 or 7 kilos skinnier than prior to my trip. You know how parents notice every little change and it annoys the hell out of you? Yes, exactly.
So, we get my stuff in her car then pick up mine at the other side of the airport. We chat for a while at her place and then I leave for home.
It's a joy to be in your own bed after two months. I check my mail, take a shower and... fall asleep.