We bid Korea adieu and took a 12 hour flight to London. The Korean stewardesses are pretty adorable. They all have this aqua bow headpiece that they pin over their buns and that, teamed with a camel skirt makes for a fashionable uniform (sorry I can’t help scoping out their outfits). They’re super accommodating and even though they’re incredibly short, they still try and help grown giant men take down their luggage from the overhead carriages. Such troopers!
The flight was long and mildly painful. I was sitting next to a stern Korean man who had a dripping nose and a raging cold. He kept sneezing and blowing his nose and I kept telling Man from Mars “He has such a bad cold man” to which he’d helpfully reply “You want to swap seats?” We didn’t end up swapping seats because the man regularly fell into long bouts of dozing, which generally appeased the germaphobe in me. I watched Suckerpunch and forced Man from Mars to watch Thor. He said it was “Álright...” but I caught him snoozing in the first half hour, so I don’t think he thought it was alright.
When we finally landed, my pins and needly feet caused me to promptly trip over my sneakers as we walked through the tunnel from the plane to the lounge. Clumsy me, I clutched the air, caught Man from Mars’ bum cheek (he was strolling ahead of me) a little too late and skidded on my knees. I got up quicksmart (because I always do that when I trip—as if to say to everyone “I’m fine, it’s all okay, no need to enquire!) and we waited for an eternity to get through customs. The line was literally 7 queues thick, and 20 people long. But once we were out, we were on our way to our hotel in Aldgate East- hurruah! Or so we thought.
When we got to the underground, it turned out that there was trackwork being done on our line. Two different cranky stationmasters gave three different sets of options and we all but gave up in favour of a London taxi.
[The sign says Yay! Banana!]:
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