I have such clear memories of being in a cafe at Heathrow airport when I was young. I can remember eating toasted cheese sandwiches and watching the planes taxi and take off, effortlessly and gracefully into the air. I don't remember the reason for my presence at the airport but as I sit here now with my coffee gazing out the window, the image of my Dad drinking tea, the itchy, scratchy fabric of the seat against my legs and the overly greasy sandwich came flooding back the moment I sat down.
Air travel still seems just as glamorous to me today as it did over 30 years ago when I went on my first ever flight. The excitement, the nerves and this time the sadness at leaving my family, mixed in with tiredness and nostalgia are almost overwhelming, but there is a sense of calmness about an airport. I've browsed the shops, marvelled at the delights of the duty free shops and splashed out on one extravagance: a Chanel lipstick, shade 99 "Pirate". I am after all on a very special mission and if I find myself unable to be practically perfect in every way whilst travelling, at least my lips will be stylishly chic.