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Flights of fancy

Flights of fancy

On Saturday morning, Andy and I rose early to tick off list item number 4, ‘Catch a flight somewhere random at the last minute with just your handbag and a credit card‘.

As promised, we arrived at the airport with little more than the clothes on our backs. The conversation with the taxi driver went a little something like this:

Taxi Man: So, which terminal?
Me: I don’t know!
Taxi Man: I mean, which airline?
Me: I don’t know that either! We haven’t decided where we’re going yet!
Taxi Man:(disinterestedly) So, Terminal 2?
Me: I guess!

So… where on Earth did we end up?

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