The day after our hike we headed back to the mainland. I had a night train to catch back to London, and the last time I'd wanted to get the night train I'd missed it. I hate waiting around but this time I got to the station ridiculously early.
Last time I'd got the Caledonian Sleeper I was the only person in the carriage. This time it was very different. The volcano I'd seen erupting just a few days earlier had now gone crazy, spewing out such a vast ash cloud that huge swathes of European airspace were closed. The night train was full of volcanically afflicted travellers whose flights had been cancelled. It was not a particularly relaxing journey, but at least I was on it this time. I got back to London at 6.45am, tired from an intense week of travel. I was supposed to be flying to Frankfurt later the same day for work, and I was pretty relieved when the epic eruption meant my flight was cancelled. I went home and slept.
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