Arriving at London Heathrow yesterday morning was a little painful. Not after an hour's delay on ground which saw the aircraft departing at midnight in Singapore, not because I hardly rested through an oddly busy 13 hours' flight, and neither was it because after we made our way from terminal 3 to 5 that we had to wait an hour at the belt to get our baggages. But it was cold outside. Colder when you're tired.
At 6.30am local time, as I stood waiting at the bus stop I couldn't help but miss the woollen scarf and leather gloves I left at home.
When I looked out of the window at 10pm last night, it was snowing heavily and everything was mono-toned. A little scary, but kinda pretty that way:
This was taken at 6am this morning, when morning's just broken.
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