Sleepy in London


The flight from Halifax to Heathrow was just too short. Five hours was not enough time for La Serpiente to get an adequate night’s sleep, and so she reemerged into England tired and grumpy. She howled all the way through Customs (a very long walk from the gate, as it’s Terminal 2) and she was loud enough that we were pulled out of the passport line and fast tracked through. I don’t think the accelerated treatment is worth the howls of rage we had to contend with.

Then, an hour after we disembarked, we couldn’t find our minicab driver to take us home. What a hard start to the day.

We have an unlucky habit of hiring shy and retiring drivers who aren’t capable of holding up a sign with our name on it. When we found the guy we had to spend another ten minutes grappling with the car seat, and then both kids wailed, raged a d fell asleep as we slowly made our way through South London. Why doesn’t anyone take the M25?

I didn’t sleep, or couldn’t sleep, until we got home; I read to La Serpiente to get her down, then passed out alongside her. I had got a couple of hours of sleep on the flight, but the stress of ny eldest shouting “earphones” at me again and again before take off had drained me. We got up about 3 and held it together Ong enough to get to Sainsbury’s to buy more breadsticks, and were then ruined enough to admit defeat. Next time, I’ll ask for a slower plane. I’ve learned my lesson.


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