Woah leaving the island...

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I then headed to the airport terminal and found the Virgin Atlantic check-in desk, I noticed that the flight number had changed and stupid me just presumed that STA had printed the details wrong considering that this flight was also bound for London and due to leave at 11.30 am. After asking at the information desk, I realised the error of my ways and was directed to the North wing of terminal 1 (don’t mock me, at least I managed the right terminal!) Here I joined the extremely long queue ready to check into my flight (guess I wasn’t getting three seats to myself this time around then). I heard the guy in front of me complaining about the passport system or some other travelling technicality and realised that the British really love to complain (hey this blog would have been pretty screwed without it).



I plucked up the courage to start talking to him, I think I actually started the conversation by complaining about the length of the queue! I am so glad I spoke to him though; I know I’ve written it so many times but I’m going to have to repeat “it’s a small world.” After blabbering enthusiastically, either due to the nerves or the fact that someone actually understood what I was saying, about my time in Japan and my family, I found out that he lived in Gunma and, although he didn’t seem to recognise my cousin’s name, he did say he had known Nate and hadn’t seen him for a good ten years (it was the Frisbee that triggered his memory), I was really surprised that he knew my family and told him how Nate was getting on (hope you don’t mind), I told him all about the interesting work that Intec do and showed him a picture of Kaylee dressing up in the clothes I’d left at the apartment that I’d taken on my phone that morning (typical me I think I left my camera in Daiso, maybe no longer the best shop ever). So Nate, I know you’ve been reading this,<span> a guy called Nick who lives in Gunma and works as<span> a professor of linguistics at a Japanese university that I can’t remember the name of, says hi!



Here was my second stroke of luck, Nick was a professor of linguistics; I was really excited and proudly told him that I’d be studying linguistics next year and explained to him how my course works and that I was thinking of taking a masters in either linguistics or education and leaving my dream (ahem) of becoming a doctor to pursue a career in a language related field. To my surprise he gave me a bit of an eye-opener; he told me that he had considered going back to university a couple of years back to study medicine but had decided against it and he said that it his one of his biggest regrets. I suppose it’s true, medicine is such a diverse field and there will always be a demand for doctors and you can go anywhere in the world with a medical degree.



So I know I said that I wasn’t going to have a long ramble about my fear of flying and I promise I won’t but we’re nearly two hours in to this twelve hour monster flight and scarily enough I’ve managed to gulp down two glasses of wine (I know this isn’t that big a deal but you really feel it in the air and I honestly haven’t been drunk since May week maybe I’m glowing as the air hostess just gave me some water without me even asking for it and with any luck I’ll fall asleep now).



Anyway, I digress! The airport palaver was a huge rush to the point that I arrived at the gate just as they announced that the boarding was about to start, my dad should be thankful that the airport staff were so slow as otherwise he would have most probably answered the phone at a ridiculous hour in the morning to his twenty year old daughter as per usual snivelling at the prospect of getting on a plane (I need to man up it’s only another mode of transport).



The plane was absolutely packed, I was right, no chance of three seats to myself. Unfortunately I seemed to be sat next to the only person who had alerted my terrorist radar whilst we were waiting in the gate. Since it got me such good treatment on the flight over here, I decided, as if I wasn’t already making it obvious enough, to tell the airhostesses of my fear of flying (maybe an upgrade to first class would help?) They did their usual thing of smiling sweetly and telling me not to worry, I settled in my seat next to my neighbour who was chirping away on his phone.



Before we set off, my friendly air hostess came and asked my neighbour if he wanted to move to the seat next to the emergency exit, I crossed my fingers and secretly prayed he would take up her offer so that I could have an extra seat to try and sleep on but, annoyingly, he declined. The air hostess then asked if I would move saying that she’d completely understand if I didn’t, presuming that the seat would be right over the wing I declined her offer and as she walked away I realised the error of my ways! Raising my hand in the air and waving it around<span> like a keen school child I told her that I’d be willing to help out and move, she was so thankful and now I’m sat here with my legs stretched fully out in front of me, I can see the air hostess opposite me and she’s smiling away so I know all is fine and fair enough I’m in charge of the emergency exit but if anything happens I’ll be first out! <span> What’s more, she just gave me 4 packs of sweets apparently to help with my fear - campei to that!

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