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Autobiographical Writing  

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Autobiographical Writing Kiran Ul-Haq 10/66 " Are we there yet?" My sister called as we turned into Wycombe airport. With the amount of times she had repeated that phrase, even a parrot would have lost its voice. "Yes, we're here." My mum said. "Whoopee!" "Shut up!" I said. "Knock it on the 'ead," my dad shouted, "the both of ya!" We both instantly shut up. Later on, I watched the planes from the airport lounge's window take off one by one as my dad checked in and received his pilot's manual from the receptionist. It was the first time my dad was taking us flying. He wanted to show off his newly-acquired pilot's licence. We were going on holiday to Le Touquet, a little town In France. I wasn't impressed by these tiny, little aeroplanes and intertwining runways, like a miniature train set. They looked like ants compared to the jumbo jets we had flown...

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