So, that’s it then.
La Paz-Lima, Lima-Madrid, Madrid-Heathrow. And the last wee hop up to Edinburgh.
Oh, and not forgetting the car drive home.
Thirty six and a half hours of solid schlepping. Incorporating a plethora of check in desks, an interrogation of passport controls, a perspiration of customs checks (well, you never know, some wag might have slipped a handful of coca leaves into our luggage), an indigestion of airline meals, a snooze of in-flight movies and whatever the collective noun is for mile-high drinking.
I know – an intoxication.
It’s nice to be back home in the bosom of one’s family.
On the other hand, travel is a blast.
Kilimanjaro anyone?
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