So here I am, Premier Inn Stansted airport, no sign of Lenny Henry but hey, I made it!
So after a long day of packing, worrying about stuff I hadn't packed, packing some more, trying to work out whether the dog on the street was stray or belonged to the window cleaner/ wondering if I should phone the RSPCA* and packing some more I finally set off. 2 suitcases and a hand luggage in tow, from the new swanky Wakefield station. After an awkward goodbye to my Mum hanging out of the train door as the conductor was trying to close it in a very 'railway children-esque' fashion I was on my way. Train 1 was relatively uneventful, I finished a book and worried about not making my connection for the majority of it. When I came to Peterborough which I'd like to point out beats Doncaster for coldest station in the world, I regretted my double suitcase choice as it was causing me a few logistical issues. However, I made it onto the very empty and much more relaxed train to Stansted. I was confronted by a man sat opposite me without any shoes on, thankfully he re-shoed after the first stop and all was well on the train again.
After passing through March, Ely and some other places I'd never heard of I made it to Stansted airport and having perfected the double luggage swag I made my way to the jolly looking Premier Inn shuttle bus, and here I am.
Now I have to leave the hotel at 5:45 tomorrow morning. This will be a challenge and I know I should sleep now to ease the pain in 7 hours but I'm in a hotel and they're full of such magical things like mini soaps and kettles and there is just so much to explore, I feel I should get my moneys worth. I am setting 20 alarms and putting them across the room, I will make my flight.
Next stop, Spain.
*It was the window cleaners, fear not.
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