Aren't airports weird? I'm sitting here in shiny new Heathrow terminal 5 at 7pm feeling like it's about 4am. The half lights, the drone of the aircon... I haven't felt this disorientated and timeless since I stalked the hotel casinos of las vegas, all of which sounds far more glamorous than it actually was.
I'm sure I should be doing something important like buying toothpaste or throwing myself at the nearest prada handbag store but instead I'm tucked away in a little corner typing furiously on my iPhone. It is perhaps no coincidence that I watched The Terminal the other night.
Anyway I'm resisting the duty free because, according to the check-in lady, t5 is one of the most expensive in the world in that department. I'll spare you her story about the global airport costs of 200 b&h (no need to thank me) but suffice it to say where I'm headed things cost one third of what they do here. Be still, my quaking credit card.
The other thing worth mentioning is that I'm flying solo. Dear MC has some very time consuming work commitments in London (and a stinking cold to boot, poor love) so all in all it's the perfect moment for a spot of sunny, girlie r&r with my oldest friend. In aforementioned lavish apartment. Something tells me I won't be seeing am awful lot of the city of Dubai itself...