London's Heathrow Airport

I hate airports.

They're the places you go when your winged unicorn is sick, or your broomstick's broken, or your magic carpet's got holes.

When all these conventional methods of transportation are denied you, you go to the airport.

The airport is a sign of FAILURE.

And here I am, at London's Heathrow Airport, Terminal 5, since my unicorn went on strike for better working conditions and more glitter.

I've just gone through customs, which is a rather unpleasant experience. Basically, your human dumps their bag, coat and electronics, as well as you, into a plastic box, a bit like a school dinner tray with evil intentions, and shoves the whole thing through an x-ray machine.

So now some staff at Heathrow presumably know that I ate lembas for breakfast, am not carrying any weapons, and have a head full of wool.

And now I can chill out with my best gangsta pose by the shops. They sell an odd assortment of products, these shops. You can get a multipack of Kitkats, so you can stuff yourself throughout the flight, or a designer bag, in which to sleep in during the flight (so long as you're elf-sized).

There's free wi-fi, but it doesn't work. I wiggled my ears left, right and centre to try and pick up the signals, but no. Apparently the wi-fi is incompatible with elves.

And now for the ultimate indignity.

To get to some of the gates (mine was in section C), you have to get there via a transit train, a bit like a London Underground train with a very short track.

It was kind of busy, and my human was worried about me falling though the gap, so she picked me up.

She picked me up.

SHE PICKED ME UP!!!

No one tosses a dwarf, and no one picks up an elf.

The picture above is testimony to my suffering.

And finally, onto the plane. I travel economy. Now, everyone complains about the lack of legroom in economy, but quite frankly, I don't see what they're complaining about. As you can see, there is plenty of space to run around, play football and race a horse.

Once I went first class, and got lost somewhere between the armrest and the oxygen mask.

And the food included lobster, which is a type of gigantic monster twice the size of the average elf.

Oh no. Economy is great.

At this point during the flight, I decided it was high time for a skydive. Just look at those clouds! It would be like the ultimate trampoline.

But alas, I couldn't open the window. I should put in a complaint.

Anyway, when I get to my destination I think I might write a special series of posts from Abroad. Keep your eyes peeled, your seatbelts fastened and that bungee rope steady.

See you soon,

Elf Dryadalis