My First Time on a Plane

The first 200 words of this essay...

My First Time on a Plane

When I was seven years old I went on my very first holiday abroad, to America.

I can remember waking up at Five o'clock in the morning to catch an early flight from Heathrow airport. I was so excited I forgot about the daunting effort of getting up so early. My Mum, Dad, Brother, grandparents and I set off on the long journey to the airport, then Orlando Florida. I remember the white taxi van used to transport us to the airport with its incredibly tiny seats, which made getting any sleep impossible. Sitting next to my brother, who was in a very irritable and annoying mood, made this slightly harder.

There had been a major accident on the motorway that held me in suspense not knowing whether we would get there in time to catch the flight. When we finally arrived at the airport my brother was ordered to go and find a luggage trolley, which I remember he was very unenthusiastic about doing.

The only part of checking in I can remember is when my Gran couldn't understand a word the Pakistani