Flying visit

You walk into a Starbucks at Gatwick airport and ask for a grande triple shot hazelnut latte and the woman behind the counter checks the order with you. She says “Hazelnut latte? What size?” I repeat “Grande.” She then comes back with “Medium?” I repeat “Grande. Is that medium? And triple shot, please?” She looks at me, querulously. I hold up three fingers.

As it turned out, eventually, the coffee was perfect. I did check the signage and, yes, it’s still called grande. Go figure.

It had been a morning of goodbyes and trains. John dropped me at St Leonards Warrior Square as the train from Battle was delayed enough for me to miss the connection.

He’s such a lovely host. He even moved a small coffee table away from my bedroom door in case I tripped over it. And left lights on for any nighttime trips to the loo. I’ll give an excellent review on TripAdvisor for Platt Towers.

He even, and correctly, recommended the coffee on the St Leonards platform. So good.

The train was on time and was only 10 minutes late getting into Gatwick. I had no problem checking in – Norwegian Air had the smallest spot in the airport.

I passed through security easily and settled down to wait for a gate. I didn’t have long. I headed for gate 10 after buying something very important from duty free.

Once again, my row didn’t have anyone in the middle seat and I settled back for a lovely, comfortable flight home, sinking myself into an episode of Mr Sunshine.

I have to say I have been well impressed with Norwegian Air. If I ever have to fly to the UK again, I really want to fly with them.

I flew through passport control and collected my little lime green wheelie bag quickly and easily before heading down to the Arlanda Express. I am amazed at how many people still use black suitcases. The belt was full of them. I could see mine long before I reached it. I swooped in, grabbed it and was off, leaving the other passengers trying to figure out which bags were theirs.

The Express was delightfully empty and soon deposited me at Stockholm Central which certainly wasn’t. I didn’t have long to wait for the 17:44 train home. All so simple.

It was definitely a flying visit, and while it was lovely seeing everyone, I can only wish it had been for a different reason.

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