I don't spend nearly so much time bored in airports these days and I have to say I don't miss it. Although my mother must find it odd when I call her without the hum of mobile humanity in the background - seemed like every other time I used to speak to her was from Gate 20-something waiting on the inevitably delayed late o'clock flight to Glasgow.
Today is the outbound trip so Glasgow Airport was our starting location at 5am this morning. By the time we get to Tampa at 5pm EDT it will have already been a long day. I had a Caramel Latte which I could have gone swimming in and which helped wake me up considerably - as did the gang of cute guys in kilts, who according to their matching t-shirts were on their way to Berlin and what happens there will stay... on Facebook. I strongly suspect one of them must have a wedding in his near future.
So now here we are with hours to kill at Gatwick. We've done the shops, bought our tequila and read with horror the label saying TPA attached to the pram of the screaming infant sitting opposite us. The hours to kill may not just be a figure of speech.
More from stateside later - where I hope to be joining in the World Cup celebrations... XD