I made it home in one piece - just. Had a great time in Tennessee, met up with some truly great friends. Whilst the plane trip to TN was mostly uneventful, the trip home was another matter entirely.

Firstly we got to the airport in Knoxville (admittedly shaving the cut-off rather close, but still with time). The check-in clerk was terse and patronising. She grumbled several times about me getting for check-in "on the button" and that I may not make my flight, but she would do her best, (yeah, right). I assumed she wanted to weigh my hand-luggage / carry on to make sure it was within the restricted weight, so I handed it over with my suitcase. She took both items and unbeknownst to me, labeled them for the hold. I didn't get to stressed at this point as I assumed I would be reunited with them at baggage claim in Washington.

How wrong I was.

I got off the plane, (which had turned from a jet engine to a stomach-churning propeller variety) and went to baggage claim. I saw my flight number and strolled over to carousel #1.

I stood there for 10-15 minutes and watched other passengers from my flight collect their luggage and go. Then the flight number disappeared from the screen. I walked over to customer services.

After a lengthy conversation I'm told that if it was a connecting flight I would not see my luggage until I disembarked at London. WTF??? You're kidding me right? (No, they were not kidding).

I was not going to let the baggage handlers throw my case around if it killed me. Besides, everything I'd packed for a stressless flight was in that case. I dislike being "cooped up" as it is. "Cooped up"with nothing to do for six hours? It didn't even bear contemplating.

I walked over to the check-in desk and pleaded with them. (In fact I recounted my story to several people before I got to the nice lady at the desk and by this time it was obvious I was stressing - she brought me a glass of water).

After clearing security I made my way to the departure gate to be told I'd be lucky to see my luggage much before I boarded. More twiddling of thumbs commenced... Time passed...
Finally I was reunited with my bag, five minutes before boarding - GAH!!

I wish that was the end of my torment - it wasn't.

I boarded the plane and was delighted to get a row of four seats all to myself! Shortly after takeoff one of the guys in the row behind asked if he could take one of the seats, I said that was fine. He smiled lots, I went to sleep.

Now the young guy across from me either had a heavy cold or an allergy, he was phlemy and sniffing - constantly, like every couple of minutes. I thought he would stop - he didn't. It was like Chinese Water Torture. I glared at him a few times. It made no difference.

In the end I had to move, for his safety and my sanity. I was shown a row of four seats with a lady sitting at one end. "Great" I thought, I should still be able to stretch out. - wrong. By the time I'd picked up my things and moved she had sprawled herself across three seats and that's how she stayed for the remainder of the flight. The seat in front of me was fully reclined and I think it has got to be the most cramped flight I've ever had.

Still, I survived, I made it home and the whole episode is now a distant, horrible memory.