To Prague. 27/11. Luton.
Luton Airport Parkway.
I'm out of the train now. It's cold. Very. Why Luton is always so cold?
Four flights of stairs. One up. Three down. The gate eats my ticket. It was to LPW not the airport.
One pound and I get a brand new one for the shuttle.
10 minutes ride. 28 past 9.
Check in. There's just two of us in the queue. Amazing!
The gate closes at 10:45. I packed the backpack by myself. No, I've not stuffed my baggage with dangerous mixable chemical compounds or sharp objects.
15 to 10. It's breakfast time!
The "restaurant" offers a standard english breakfast. With eggs, sausages, hash brown, baked beans, bacon, mushrooms and roasted tomato. They are out of sausages, hash brown and tomatoes. Let's check M&S.
BLT & a pint of orange juice. Rigorously freshly squeezed. Everything is soooo organic in here. Very "Everywhere" :D
The sandwich is good as usual. The orange juice too. I'm erethic perhaps but don't actually get the difference between organic and "plain old (cheap) crap".
There's a Caffè Nero outside. Just close to the public ashtrays in the smoking zone. An espresso please, double. It's warm. Reassuring in the cold outside. Matches well with the cigarette.
10:15. Let's go to the departure gates. Boarding card check. Security check. No, I have no liquids. No, there's no laptop in the backpack. My pockets are empty. My belt, the phones, the wallet, the coin holder and my frontal lobes are in the tray. Yes, I'll take off my boots.
Nothing beeps. I gather my stuff and move on.
The lounge. A bench. The departure informations panel. "Wait in Lounge". Waiting. 12 to 11. Now.
To Prague. 27/11. Morning.
Wake up call at 06:15.
Coffee. Long, hot and black.
While the kettle was boiling had some humus. I was hungry. Yesterday's night spliff?
So, the coffee. The loo. The backpack.
Three pairs of sox. Three trunks. A shirt. A sweeter. Pajama and t-shirt. The Chrono Trigger's azure one. The chocolate I bought yesterday from Hotel Chocolat. Cables for iPhone and Blackberry. The USB adapter. Something else I don't recall right now.
Another cup of joe and then dressing up. It's already half past seven.
Trousers: Uniqlo's kaki ones from last year. I so need to go shopping.
Shirt: the white and yellow table cloth one.
Sweater: scottish lamb wool. Überwarm. Prague is cold. I'm going to die in the Victoria line's guts.
Shoes: the usual boots I use this days.
Flatmate is up. 15 to 8. Having breakfast on the sofa. Hope he washes the dishes before going out. Actually, who cares? I'm out till Monday :D
Getting out at 10 to 8. Chilly air. The breath freezes in pufs of smoke. Nice. I like it.
Cigarette on the way to the station. Adriana cafe. 08:01. The train should be at 08:06. Good.
Touch in. Stairs. Train. It's hot in here. Shitload of people. Only two stops. A nice redhead lurks over her boyfriend shoulder. LöL.
Highbury and Islington. King's Cross-St. Pancras.
Crossing the station. Ticket. Why the guy before me in lines is always such an idiot? It's a ticket machine not rocket science. Read the frigging on screen instruction. Ticket. Train.
The doors close just a second before me and a woman reach them. The guy says that there's another one downstairs "platform b".
Stairs. Platform b. Train. Now.
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