Day 5 - London - Derry

And just like that, our small but mighty tour was over. We were flying home today, back to Derry, back to normality, back to Pippin. Finally, we actually managed hotel breakfast. Alexander enjoyed fruit and pain au chocolat like a tiny European toddler, while Anna and I went for some avocado and eggs with coffee and tea.

Bags were packed, room checked, and we were out the door by 9am feeling unusually organised. One of the blessings of our hotel location was that Gloucester Road was on a direct line to Heathrow. No changes and no dramatic Underground manoeuvres. Just forty minutes straight through. Of course, forty minutes on a train with Alexander is still forty minutes. He must be sick of these things by now!

To be fair to him, he was brilliant again. He practised winking, with an intense, full-face effort, and loudly identified “houses” whenever anything vaguely residential appeared out the window. He also mastered the art of holding onto the pole on the train so he wouldn’t fall over, which felt like a solid life skill unlocked.

A couple of lifts later at Heathrow and we reached departures. There was a mild wave of PTSD from our Australia trip and the Loganair drama of last year (see Chapter 13, Day 16 Part 2 for emotional context). We joked, nervously, that surely lightning couldn’t strike twice. Then we joined the bag drop queue. And the queue didn’t move.

For reasons beyond our understanding, it was taking the staff member around fifteen minutes to check in each passenger. There were only about four groups in front of us, yet time seemed suspended. Alexander, was getting impatient with this woman and so he and Anna completed multiple laps of the departures zone to waste time. Eventually I reached the desk, checked in Alexander’s little suitcase and were told that our backpack needed to go on the special baggage belt because of the straps. Anna returned and suggested we head straight through as the special bagged queue was even longer. It all felt unnecessarily slow and confusing, but we agreed and pushed on.

Security was its usual theatrical production. The facial recognition gates required removing Alexander for a photo, which he did not appreciate. Then the trays. Every tray seemed to be pulled for extra inspection. Everything felt painfully inefficient. As Alexander’s tiredness crept in and the crankiness levels rose, we gave him some milk to calm him down. In hindsight, this was poorly timed. Watching his bottle disappear into the scanner triggered immediate protest. Of course, our trays were then selected for further checks. Ours was fifth in line. To distract him, I walked ahead to check the gate - Heathrow to Derry. Gate A5. Gate closing. Perfect.

I returned to Anna with the news. We had one bag but the other was still being examined. The Calpol needed testing but Anna, very reasonably, suggested they could just keep it. The security man insisted he had to test it. We explained we needed to go. He assured us the flight wouldn’t leave without us if we’d scanned in. Funny, because we distinctly remember a couple missing this exact flight last year.

Eventually we were released and began the sprint. This is the moment the pundits talk about, when practice meets reality. All those previous trips, all those awkward escalators, all those rehearsals of pram-lifting under pressure… this was the final. No slip-ups now or we miss the flight. Our pram-lifting technique and teamwork kicked in instinctively. No time to wait for badly designed lift placement in Heathrow - straight to the escalator. It’s slightly chaotic and I can imagine slightly alarming to onlookers, and even to Alexander, but you have to do what you have to do!

We arrived at the gate with moments to spare. A rapid nappy change was executed in full public view with dignity is no longer a concern, sorry Alexander. We boarded the bus to the plane last, which had one silver lining: we stood at the very front. Alexander was mesmerised by the driver and the windscreen wipers going swish swish swish.

We boarded first onto the aircraft and settled into the back row. There was a delay while the plane was de-iced and we joined the queue of aircraft waiting to take off. Heathrow, for such a grand and important airport, feels surprisingly slow and inefficient for us these days. Perhaps it’s just us.

Once airborne, Alexander happily played with the air vents and lights above our seats, read a few books and nibbled on the complimentary caramel chocolate that Loganair provide. He fought sleep bravely and stayed awake long enough to watch us descend into Derry. And then, just like that, we were home.

We disembarked, collected the pram and our single hold bag, and were picked up. All that remained was to collect Pippin from Auntie Grace and complete the reunion. It wasn’t a long holiday. It wasn’t exotic. But it was a good one. Alexander ticked off every mode of transport possible - plane, tram, tube, Uber boat, taxi, train and bus. A full transport masterclass before nursery on Monday.

Tour complete.