Wednesday morning, angry mositure laden skies, chokka M25/23, Gatwick North. Waiting for a flight to Genoa. Deep joy.
Actually now that we’re in to October and free of the ghastly holiday season the airport is relatively free of noisy oiktrash on their way to Santa Baggoff and Playa dos Herpes so not such a bad experience. Allatsea has slipped the confines of Lunndunn and has the 5 days or so on the NW Italian coast. Bliss……he hopes.
Looking at the diary this is the first trip out of the office in 5 weeks, a record but not the sort that’s to be celebrated, not in these financially precipitous times. That said, if all goes to plan (and I’m looking at you Saint Stella, patron saint of drunken sailors) there’s only another 8 weeks or so of this milarkey to go.
That however is for another day and another post.