My focus is on the Passport Control sign. I'm determined to be the first in line, so I can get out, fast. I want to be at Land of Love early, to avoid the crowds and get down to the serious business of finding Tan.
With my head focused forward, I march onwards, ignoring my urge to visit the bathroom; I just don't have the time. I'll hold it in.
Feeling surprisingly fresh, I'm grateful to the full seven hours sleep that I managed to get on the flight.
I overhear a woman's voice behind me, "She's on something, I wouldn't board that plane with a crazy like that on it." But, I don't let it distract me. Onwards.
A guys voice joins the conversation, "It doesn't make you feel very secure, I mean how could a mad woman like that get past security and so close to the departure gate." I keep marching forwards.
The woman replies, "Don't they have stun guns or something, to knock her out?"
Curiosity grabs me; I look behind to see who or what they're talking about. The couple are joined by more people who are looking through the glass wall that separates the arrivals hall from the departure lounge.
I can't see what they're seeing, but I sure see an opportunity: a chance to use the bathroom while my fellow passengers are being distracted by some kinda situation.
Washing my hands, I'm grateful for the distraction, because I see I've got real bad bed head, my hairs sticking up at the back like a cockatoo. Quickly, I run my hair under the tap, pat it with a paper towel and run my fingers through it.
That's better. I make a mental note to get my haircut once Tan and I are back in London. It's getting long, another few weeks and I'll be needing a Topknot, and that's a look that I won't be adopting anytime soon. We can both get a makeover, together.
Leaving the bathroom, I look back down the hallway and see my fellow passengers still linger, watching whatever's going on in the departure lounge. People really are voyeurs, we love to gather and watch, particularly bad things, like the way we always tend to slow down when we see a car crash.
As the crowd increases though, I hear that their dialogue has changed from being negative, to a positive - they chant, like they're watching some kind of sporting dual.
I've really not got time to stop, my determination to get outta here and into Land of Love, quashes any further curiosity I may have and compels me forward, my stride becomes a power walk.
The thought that Tan may be involved in some kind of experiment or other such struggle turns my power walk into a steady sprint.
Until a huge cheer from behind me, doesn't exactly stop me, but causes me to slow. And when I hear a collective chant of, "Run girl - run-run-run," accompanied by hand-clapping, which increases into a cheering crescendo, I slow even further.
When I stop, the entire jumbo jet load of passengers erupts into a crowd of celebratory cheering supporters.
But I don't know what, or who, they're supporting.
I'm staring at them, searching for clues, when I focus on one guy who keeps on pointing over my right shoulder and smiling.
Tentatively, I turn - TAN! IT'S TANYA.
Throwing myself at the glass, my legs buckle and I drop to my knees. She does the same, slamming her hands to the glass, I place my palms on hers, "Is it really you, Tan?" I mouth.
