Pizza, Pasta and Breakfast

4.30am.  Who can resist a place called Pizza, Pasta and Breakfast?  3 of my favourite things.

And boy was it just what I needed.

Who invented mornings anyway?  Why is it that sleep always feels like some sort of illusive lover?  I refused to go to bed early and once asleep cursed my alarm clock for disturbing me.

My shuttle from the hotel took all of literally 1 minute.  I could have jogged it (she jests).  And once inside the terminal I realise, ‘I am here before the check in staff’.  God that’s keen…

So I sit, on the floor in quiet contemplation.  After 2 days of preamble we’re actually here.  Last minute mental check list of my hand baggage – no offensive items?  Nothing that will unceremoniously be taken off of me?  Nothing that has inadvertently slipped my mind?

My blue bag gets special treatment as it has straps and all sorts of things that can get caught on a regular conveyor belt.  I look longingly at it as it disappears from view.  I’d better see you on the other side ok?

I was pleasantly surprised when they offered me a zip lock clear bag.  Well that’s nice.  I have my own though.  Security was easy.  ‘Have you got any hair straighteners or hair dryers in here?’  Eh what sort of an idiot do you take me for?  Who takes straighteners with them on holiday?!  Or a hair dryer in their hand luggage?  I felt quite insulted really.  Note to self- must look more like a troll next time.  Clearly 4am wasn’t early enough for him.

Anyway, a hop, skip and a jump later I’m smoked salmon and scrambled egged out and just about finishing my customary mocha (and water).  My flight is at 6.55am.  Boarding commencing at 5.10am.  

Gosh, that’s not so far away really.

Looking forward to getting stuck into some more Sa Pa reading.  One of the many places not already on our itinerary that of course the more I read about the more I want to go to.  Hmm, I wonder?

Have a little Mumford.  I’ll see you when I see you.

Peace out.

Tiny