The line for immigration was monstrous - snaking left and right for miles. I was feeling rather fragile and miserable at this point as I joined the queue - and it occurred to me that it's rather disheartening to arrive at the airport when there's no one to meet you. Not that I expected someone to be waiting - only that it would've been nice to get a hug at the end of a frankly torturous 22 hours of flying.
I lugged myself and my baggage onto the Tube (minding the gap!) and tried desperately not to look like a tourist as I exited at Waterloo station and walked around a bit trying to get my bearings and locate the College. Naturally I walked ten minutes in the wrong direction, but I got there in the end.
I grew brighter as I made my way into the courtyard and looked up to see this majestic panorama.
I eagerly swiped my key and took the lift up to my floor. With growing excitement I turned the key and opened the door of the flat to reveal: a shoe box.
Okay, so it's got all the necessary amenities (including a mini fridge) and it's clean but these pictures do not convey the smallness of this room. The bathroom is a closet. I'm not going to show you a picture of that because who really wants to see pictures of toilets? Strangely enough, it's not the smallest room I've ever had to live in- but just believe me when I say there is more space in my little Honda hatchback than the bathroom.
Anyway, it's almost 10 o'clock and only just starting to get dark - which is confusing in itself. In my infinite wisdom I brought myself a microwaveable container and 90 sec porridge sachets which now enables me to stay in the entire night and shake off this rather taxing jet lag I seem to have contracted.
Hopefully I'll have something a little more interesting to report tomorrow when I trek out to do a bit of exploring.