Waking up in the middle of the night, especially when it’s cold, especially when it’s dark, is hard. Especially if you have to catch a flight which will mean tedious security control where you remove your dignity with your belt and boots, long-distance walking in a bright building that mostly sells overpriced stuff, being squeezed into the plane for hours and hours in row, drifting between sleep and wakefulness. Flights from London to Tallinn are usually around 6am. The cheap ones. We seem to be addicted to the UK and keep coming back to discover every inch of it. The early flights back home shall remain inevitability. At least we had an airport hotel this time. Ibis Hotel, which was less than a 10-minute walk from Luton Airport. Once we stayed at an airport hotel near Stansted (Holiday Inn, I guess it was) and didn’t enjoy it very much – the room was OK and there was also an early breakfast available but as the hotel was a mile away and in an inconvenient location, we had to pay for the shuttle bus: extra 12 GBP (from the airport to hotel in the evening and back there in the morning, coaches and trains from London stop at the airport). But Ibis was nice and homely, albeit the small room.
The thing we love the most about these early flights that often leave us like zombies, is finally stepping over our own apartment threshold. In December when we returned from the UK, we also came from Luton and spent the night at the airport. Not at all nice. The check-in opened around 4am, had massive queues and the airport as too uncomfortable and bright. A hotel was better and Ibis was also much cheaper than the one at Stansted. Anyway… I wanted to talk about these blissful moments we experience when we actually get home. After we had been sitting inside the plane for longer than first anticipated due to the time-consuming but absolutely necessary de-icing of the wings, after we had almost missed our train home because of the delay (9 minutes and 1 kilometre on snowy roads – manageable for long-distance runners, isn’t it?), after we had finally walked home… these moments when you get a bite to eat. And then… in broad daylight, crawl under the duvet and know that you are allowed to do it. You are allowed a few hours of sleep, although it is sunny outside. You feel like a zombie but you instantly feel better once your head touches the pillow. You don’t have to go anywhere, do anything. You have just arrived home. You wake up a few hours later, have a coffee, and go for a run. Ah, bliss!
1. Own and live in a house.
Inspiration hit me on the plane and I kept planning a huge and complex bestseller. If I do get to writing it, it will actually buy us the house, I am certain.
2. Write AND publish a book.
I spent most of the flight planning a new novel. Big family, complicated relationships, everybody has secrets, most of them get revealed. Something that Maggie O’Farrell would write. I had finished The Vanishing Act of Esme Lennox just a few days earlier and was still mesmerised by it. Like I am mesmerised by all of her novels. Such brilliant masterpieces, although they might seem too realistic at first!
3. Win a major race.
An easy run after I had completed my post-flight nap at home. Didn’t feel great at first but turned out to be a decent one! The pace was surprisingly good.