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Oh no. my headscarf had slipped off my head. People were staring. I felt a women pinch my shoulder. She said something in another language I didn't understand. I hate this place, I thought, and I was only in the airport.

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Introduction

Travel Writing - Coursework Oh no. my headscarf had slipped off my head. People were staring. I felt a women pinch my shoulder. She said something in another language I didn't understand. I hate this place, I thought, and I was only in the airport. I hadn't been to Iran for seven years. The last time I had been there I was about eight, and I could barely remember anything. All I knew was that this was a place where women wore headscarves and the place where alcohol was invented. We squeezed through the moving wall that was people. A whiff of sweat reached my nose. I held my breath. I was revolted. Hadn't people here ever heard of something called a bath? Well, obviously not. Please, please let us get out of here soon. I turned my head and looked at my brother. He didn't seem too bothered about the smell, but that was the thing with my brother. He always wore a dreamy expression on his face, and would never do anything which would cause that dreaminess to fade. I often wondered what he was thinking about as he was far too young to be thinking about, you know, teen 'boy stuff'. ...read more.

Middle

It was so unnerving knowing that all of these people had their eyes on me. I manoeuvred myself so that I was behind my brother, but something pink caught my eye. Realising what I hadn't done, I quickly stuffed the shame back into my suitcase. I'm quite sure I turned the same colour as my bra. Did this place actually have air conditioning? My attention was once again diverted to the hundreds of people standing behind the glass. A few individuals were randomly waving at people coming out from behind us. I spotted a large, overweight woman waving and screaming frantically at someone in our direction she had clearly recognised. "Leah," I heard a sweet voice say. "Do they call that a beast?" "What?" "Well," he replied, pointing to the screaming woman. "That is a hideous creature isn't it?" 'Hideous' certainly did describe that person. "You should talk more often. I was wondering when the family gene would kick in." "You have bad taste." "What do you mean, 'you have bad taste'?" "Pink bra? Honestly. What are you, a flamingo?" He suddenly didn't seem so sweet. Anyway, that bra had been on sale when I got it. It seemed a good idea at the time. ...read more.

Conclusion

This was followed by another hard push, and then another which finally caused me to stumble forwards, head first and hit something strangely soft. I could not see for about a minute because the soft, rubbery like thing obscured my vision. What was this thing? A hand gradually grabbed my head and pulled me back. My headscarf fell down yet again, but I didn't notice as I was too busy looking at the thing I had fell into. It was fat. Yes, fat. I had bumped into the 'hideous creature' my brother had described. But what made it truly horrifying, the reason I stood there transfixed even with the disgruntled woman (who was now shouting at me again in another language because my scarf had fallen off for the second time) and her trolley digging into my feet was the thing that happened next. For I noticed that my dad was standing next to that overweight beast, tears of happiness streaming down his eyes. It hit me. "Meet your aunt!" She let out a huge ear splitting howl. "OH, my dear!" she screamed. "Look how much you've grown!" Ok. How can people not expect me to grow over seven years? I could tell this was going to be a great holiday. I want to go home, I thought, but home was all the way in England. ?? ?? ?? ?? ...read more.

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