Palermo to Cambridge

My alarm went off at about 6.45, and I finished packing up and ate some cakes and drank some juice. I intended to leave very early, but I checked out, and gave the nice old man my unused bus ticket from the day before, and set off walking at about 7.45. I started walking down Via Maqueda, but cut across blocks to Via Roma. I was sorry to be leaving Sicily so soon as I’d just got used to it. At the station, I bought a ticket to Punta Raisi for €5, and there was a train scheduled at about 8.15. It was delayed, and there was an impossibly massive crowd waiting to get on – they all looked like students. When the train arrived, everyone crammed on, and the first 10 minutes were quite uncomfortable, standing up. The majority got off at one stop, and I could get a seat and get comfortable.

I ate the last of my little cakes, took a couple of photos out the window of the rocky mountains, and arrived at the airport at around 8.45. I checked in without incident, went to the toilet, bought some frutta martorana and went through security. I was now used to taking my belt off. At the gate, I took some more photos (which didn’t work) and persuaded a machine to give me a surprisingly good, though small, cup of coffee. The Brits began an orderly queue before long, but when boarding was called, all the Sicilians just made a mad dash for the gate. I got through and got an aisle seat between two Sicilian couples who were going to London for the first time. The nice girl next to me asked me whether it was better to get a coach or a train to the city.

The flight was uneventful, and upon landing at Stansted, I was delighted to find that the weather was clear and warm. I had some time to kill before my coach, so I followed the example set by a few people and stretched out on the grassy slope behind the bus buildings and ate some olives. Upon switching my phone on, I received a message from Andrew welcoming me home. I went to get on the coach, and witnessed some confusion between some guys from Estonia and a clueless National Express man. I intervened by telling them that Parkside and Parkers Piece were one and the same place, and then chatted to the Estonian guys for a while. As we got on, they wanted to make sure that they got off where I did. I sat opposite them. Back to Cambridge on time.