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home James
after a HUGE brunch at wynn
and a quick shoppe
and a quicker 'swim' (aka stand) in the pool next door to the pool party where the hectic DJ played the most frenetic mix of JUST 10sec hooks of every dance record he had pre-recorded
boarded a virgin home to Blighty
fittingly this plane was called 'Lucy in the sky...'
and the (unusually) lady pilot was called 'Helen whore' (although i may have misspelt her surname?)
immediately reminded of why i love this country: the pre paid carpark barrier wouldn't open when we tried to leave
there was no-one there on the gate to help
no-one answered the 'assistance' phone
and when i called the phone number for the duty manager of terminal 3 parking, he said there was an emergency at terminal 5 parking so he couldn't help.
finally home after m25 crawl past car fire in time for late afternoon hip 'hop fest' in town
completely passed out delirious by 10am