August 27th, my journey officially begins. An early 6am start to catch a National Express coach from Warwick Parkway Train Station.
The coach journey was as much fun as a coach can provide for a person with long legs like myself but I managed to nod off some before awaking to a scene of congestion; merely the hundreds and thousands of vehicles ploughing their way into the terminals at Heathrow.
The coach clipped a luggage trolley that had escaped the clutches of two teenage girls, sending their belongings sprawling alongside the kerb. The coach got stuck but was freed by an assistant and eventually parked. Everyone stared on haplessly.
My mother had decided to see me off at Heathrow for it was not definite when I would see her again, I appreciated her company if not her nagging and constant checks to see if I had everything but the kitchen sink with me. I knew it would be difficult for her to see me go but such things had to be done. We both were aware that this was an important moment, when the parent has to let go of the child, hoping that they will fly free and be strong on their own.
The queues were about as bad as could be expected thanks to the extra security checks in place. My hand luggage just squeezed into the maximum size restrictions enforced and thankfully was able to continue carrying my hard drives with me containing all my work and data (approx. 600GB worth). Continue reading