There were useless road works so I never made it to the Gordon Ramsey restaurant at Heathrow …
I arrived at the bag drop stressed by how late I was only to be told I was 3 kg overweight.
LIES! Josh and I weighed it!
Anyway, after unpacking my books and shoes into my little rucksack (and suffering the embarrassing feeling when you open your suitcase in public and it feels like all of Heathrow are staring at your knickers … judging) I went back to the desk and some unfeeling chump told me I was still 1kg overweight. My reaction was to promptly burst into tears and tell him I was going away for ages ‘yeah, yeah they all have excuses’. Still crying I had to remove a remaining 1kg and sob my way through security now carrying all my possessions. After a quick trip to boots and an extremely angry (anger followed tears) tweet to British Airways I was on the plane settling down to Dallas Buyer’s Club.A smooth ride was followed by a million hours in the immigration rooms – they didn’t believe the farming without being paid thing. I tried to explain the concept of woofing and that I would be paid in life experience but they still didn't understand...
I was finally let out, caught a train then a taxi and dragged my overweight suitcase up 3 flights of stairs into the warmth of Marisa’s loving arms.
With all that it was still only a 14 hour journey – about the same time as the bus from Accra to Tamale in Ghana.
I spent my last morning in London with the lovely Sappho