Off into the wild blue yonder.

From my notes..

I got dropped of at Edinburgh airport by my mum and dad. My flight was scheduled to leave at 5.45 but due to my mum not wanting me to miss check in we left my flat @ 2pm. Nothing like erring on the side of caution.
I said cheerio to my mum and dad and watched as they pulled away. As I stood outside departures I began smoking like a lab beagle so that I could put up with the prospect of not being able to light up for the next 11 hours or so.
By the time departures were open I'd smoked enough cigarettes to kill a reasonable sized mammal and left a pile of dog ends large enough for someone to trip over.

I picked up my bag, slung it over my shoulder and headed towards check in. No turning back now.

I checked in at gate 38 and as I had another hour until the flight I made my way towards the smokers section of the airport. While I sat reading my book a guy in a business suit struck up a conversation with me. He explained to me that he'd been stuck in the airport for six hours due to his friends missing their flight up from Manchester and we passed the time by doing what all brits do, talking about the weather. I learned that he was from the whiral and that he was in Edinburgh for the wedding of an "old school chum" His accent and his general demeanor made me think of suited and booted business men out to screw someone out of their fortune but he seemed not too bad and I was glad of the company.

I wandered into the shop to buy some sweets for the flight and was astounded to overhear someone ask the assistant if the Irn Bru they were selling was genuine Irn Bru. I kid you not. "It's not the watered down version we get in England is it?" she asked, as though Barrs weaken the recipe just in case the "real" version causes the English race to develop a Scots accent and take up the art of chibbing...

I paid for the sweets I bought and with a smile and a comment about the weak Irn Bru to the shop assistant I headed for the nearest bar. Two pints of Guinness and black later I wandered to the departure lounge and the duty free shop.

As I browsed through the selection of malts and other spirits I was approached by a nice looking blond sales assistant and she began her spiel about what was on offer and asked me what I was looking for. I told her to save it for the tourists and thanked her for the offer.

I bought three bottles of spirits and made my way to the departure gate.

The aircraft was on schedule and I, and the rest of the passengers boarded. The aircraft taxied to the start of the runway and the pilot threw the engines into thrust mode, or whatever it is that he does, and we shot down the runway and off into the skies. The adventure had begun...