“We are going to be late.”
Truman grumbled to himself as we walked towards Temple Meads station. His eyes were trying to focus on his phone as they tried to blink away the darkness of sleep. This was the first trip we had ever taken together despite our meeting back in Brisbane all those months ago.
“According to Google,” he started while rubbing his unshaven face. “We are going to miss our flight.”
I looked at him perplexed. If there was one part of trips that I excelled at, it was planning. There was plenty of time allocated to be at the airport before our plane departed. What was this Welsh man talking about? We kept a steady pace walking through the streets of Bristol and I adjusted the straps on my backpack.