AND SO IT BEGINS...
April 28
I only managed to get on the first plane through a constant stream of synchronicity - some would say miracles.
It started from when my boss, dear friend and crucially, rampant traveler, Richard told me to confirm my bookings. Even though it was typed as clearly as a neon EXIT sign on the top of my itinerary, I hadn't seen it.
Then, at the airport, Virginia pointed out that my plane had final boarding RIGHT NOW! There were no departure calls.
When did they stop having departure calls?
If they had got together at that point, I feel confident a scene from a movie would have followed where they casually swap affectionate stories – Richard having to remind me to confirm my bookings and Virginia having to point out my final departure. A zoom in would show their eyes suddenly bulging at the same time as they realise that there was a serious risk of E never coming back then both sprinting down the departure lounge yelling 'STOP - that woman shouldn't have been allowed to leave her bedroom!!'
I still suspect Customs were tipped off because they couldn’t seem to get rid of me quick enough and I was in Papeete before I had even worked out where to plug in the headphones.
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