The backpack is actually here. However, it’s still at Heathrow (or at least was an hour ago) going through customs.
I’m very happy I didn’t pack any foodstuffs aside from the dehydrated soup. A jar of peanut butter might set off import alarms.
The saga goes on. I need a shave. I need a clean shirt. I desperately want clean underwear.
The joys of travel!
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