Time to go home

It was sad to be waking at camp for the last time. We spent the morning completing our packing and getting ourselves organised for the long trip home. After a time of devotions, we gathered together for a final group photo before jumping on the bus.

At the airport, several of the OMS missionaries we had met over the last two weeks had come to bid us farewell. The time came when we had to make our way through security and start our journey home. We had timed it such that no sooner did we arrive at the gate than we were boarding the plane. The flight was reasonably empty to Curitiba and also to Sao Paulo, and so I relocated myself to a window seat in preference to the aisle one which I had been given.

At Sao Paulo, we had something in the region of 11 hours to kill. After getting our baggage checked onto the flight to London, we found a base on the top floor and set about making ourselves at home. Some went shopping, others read, some talked. It was a curious part of the trip. Neither at source nor destination, but in limbo, waiting. I spent some time reading my Bible, reading my book, writing, talking and had a wander around to stretch my legs. Just before the plane was due to leave we headed through to the departure lounge and boarded the plane.

The plane was hot. Too hot. Amy was objecting in a somewhat audible fashion from somewhere behind me. I was sandwiched between two incommunicative men and spent much of the first two hours hoping that the temperature would come down some. After dinner, we set about trying to get some sleep. I did reasonably well until, at something like 5am, the bloke with the window seat decided that he would have the blind up. It is quite hard to sleep with direct sunlight flooding in on your face and no amount of squirming in my seat could properly rectify the situation, so, in the end I gave up trying to sleep and accepted that Sunday had arrived.