Hi. I’m on a plane right now, and anything you see posted for the next two weeks would have been lovingly scheduled in a frantic effort to ensure you all had something to read while I’m sunning myself and drinking many a rum cocktail.
I feel sorry for you, reader. Truly I do. Just think – while you’re up at 6am in the dark, scrambling for a clean pair of knickers and wondering where your other boot is, I’ll be heading to bed after watching a gorgeous Jamaican sunset (I haven’t worked out time differences yet, but you get the gist).
So. What’s the plan?
Last night, I finished my last day of work for eight days, and met The Boy at the station with luggage in hand. We said goodbye to the cat, who will be lovingly looked after by our house sitter (who is welcome to all the tea and coffee but the treat drawer is off limits, as is the Ben & Jerry’s I left in the freezer fyi) and made the journey to Gatwick.
Although our flight isn’t until today (I’m on it right now) we booked a room in the flatpack, can’t-swing-a-cat Bloc Hotel to save the distress of a 3am wake up/cross London trek. We did look at staying Airbnb or even in one of the other airport hotels, but Bloc is actually in the terminal. Literally in the south terminal. Literally above the station we’ll be arriving at the night before. So it means we get to sleep until about 7:30am, before meeting our concierge at 8am. I think that’s worth the £70.
Oh, did I forget to mention the concierge?
See, this is our honeymoon. We decided to push the boat out. We won’t probably ever book an airport hotel again, we might never set foot in an airport lounge. But, for this one occasion, we decided we wanted a taste of the champagne life. Even if it is on a lemonade budget. So we booked the No1 Traveller VIP Departure Service. We just didn’t want any hassle, and having someone take care of the drudgery of airports is a pretty amazing thing.
We also shelled out on extra legroom seats on the top deck of our flight, just behind first class. Not too shabs, huh.
So that’s us right now. I tend to get delirious after about half an hour of sitting still, so any and all prayers in whichever religious denomination you favour wil be appreciated by The Boy, who is probably sat next to me trying to drown his sorrows.
Who knows if we’ll have wi-fi when we land, but if we do and you want to pretend you’re on honeymoon with us – not weird at all – just click on the instagram widget on the sidebar and follow. Don’t worry, we’ll have a cocktail for you.