Marhaba fi Dubai!

You know, if you stare at the baggage conveyor belt long enough, all the bags start to look the same. They're either all Samsonite or Delsey and the ones that are neither look like they could be. And they're all black or blue or grey. Ok, there was one red one but it was the only one. And everybody now ties those damn red ribbons on their bag handles to identify their bags faster. Only problem being, of course, that all the bags have red ribbons on them. You would think people would be more creative. And as luck would have it, mine is also one that is black and a Samsonite lookalike.

Next time, I'm buying neon orange bags with blue piping. Because, you know, it takes you all of 3 minutes to get through immigration in Dubai but then you have to wait at least an hour for your bags to get sorted through while you're being shoved around by smelly Bangladeshi laborer types.

Anyhoo. Here I am. Nearly didn't make it since fell asleep at Heathrow and only woke when they were closing the doors to my flight. Managed to slip through. It's 2:30 in the morning. I can't sleep. It's nice to be home. Every time I return home, things look smaller and tables look shorter to me. I wonder if that's because I'm still growing. Mum thankfully said nary a word about my growing which was rather kind of her. Pops was pipped about the hat I got him. Mangoes were eaten. Black Cobra was missed. All in all, the usual homecoming.

I suppose I'll read email now.