The Airport

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1:45 am, Friday 17th February ~ My alarm pulled me out of my sleep, and I fumbled to turn it off. I found the button and slipped back into unconsciousness.

1:50 am, Friday 17th February ~ My alarm disturbed me once again, and realising that all I had done was press snooze, I reached over and turned on my light. I cursed. I had set my alarm to the wrong time, and managed to wake myself up enough to change it to the correct time of 2:45 am.

2:45 am, Friday 17th February ~ At the right time, my alarm woke me up. I got ready, devoured my breakfast and rushed out the door, then realising that I had to wait for my mum to take me to school.

3:30 am, Friday 17th February ~ Groggy, I looked around the gloomy car park for friends, and when I saw two, remembered that I was only friends with two people in my year that were going on the trip. It didn't bother me, as I like to think of myself as a very social person.

After chatting to a few people, it was time to load our bags and board the coach that would bring us to Gatwick, and the realisation that we would be travelling over 600 miles had only just dawned on us.

4:00 am, Friday 17th February ~ We finally set off on our journey, and the conversations and happenings of the rest of the morning blurred into one - my lack of sleep meant I couldn't recall.

Noon, Friday 17th February ~ From this point on, times are vague. Gatwick Airport. Finally.

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