Over the excitement of an 11-hour flight and warm weather, my sleep was completely off. That night I fell asleep at 1 only to be woken up at 4 by my set alarm. The taxi driver also promised to call at 4 on the dot in case the alarm was snoozed off and dutifully he kept his word. All packed and ready to go, we waited by the front door. The taxi driver arrived a few mins before 5, excited as we were. We loaded the trolleys into the car and off we went, driving further into the darkness with romantic Bollywood songs playing in the background. At a last-minute change of heart and thanks to traffic updates, the driver took a detour through the sleeping city streets. I’ve never seen London at this hour, oh and how beautiful it looked, deserted streets glistening under the street lamps. I barely recognised London. On a plus, I discovered the biggest costa I’ve ever seen. Somewhere between Kings Cross and Euston. Something for Google to help me out on, “Biggest Costa in London”. The songs playing on the radio had me gazing out of the window deep in thought like I was starring in a music video, with a camera crew following the journey.
Reaching terminal 2 on time, well very, very early. Beating the half a dozen queues, it was all non-stop from here. Getting our boarding passes through the (first-timers confusing) self-service kiosk. Checking in our bags and my favourite part shopping at duty-free for those last-minute essentials that may or may not be needed.
Cue the long queue, I waited in line to board the plane, only to catch up on plenty of wanted and unwanted sleep. It’s fair to say I happily slept through the 10-hour journey. Bars of KitKat were handed out and were gratefully accepted.
Arriving at San Francisco, my destination for two weeks was set. I was happy to get off the plane and stretch my legs. The weather as expected was better than it was in London. The long car journey back to my aunties was a nice yet slow way to see the city at peak hour and how it needed to grow its public transport service.