The sky cried snowflakes as we departed in the dark for the train station. My eyes were damp, mostly from the snowflakes that stopped short of my protruded tongue as I stared upward in disbelief at some of the largest, lightest crystals I have set eyes upon. This has been a brilliant week in yet another new country (adding an additional port of call to my “might return eventually” list), but my bed and the the superbowl are calling me home. At least for two nights.
i made it from the airport to the train station. we went bag to pick up a bag that didn’t quite make it on time, of course it was dark the entire two hour drive. we visited a store for work; that lasted about 30 minutes. when my hotel slipped an invoice under the door, a full 24 hours earlier than anticipated, my backup plan (if for some reason all of the rooms were booked) would have been to find a place in manchester to stay the night and shorten the trip to the airport in the morning. plan b did not happen, so we’ll be taking a train back from leeds tomorrow and connect straight into the airport. i almost feel like i’ve been to manchester. but not quite.