I’m sitting in the Stansted airport lounge, far superior to the cattle pen. I might get used to this – I am only here on sufferance really, because we have a credit card that, with an added fee, gives lounge access. They gave me the credit card by mistake and then decided to just waive the fee for a year. I might well renew it if I am travelling as much next year.
It’s been very smooth so far, so I am waiting for something to go wrong. I finished my packing last night, and the luggage came in at 500 grams under the weight limits for both land and checked luggage. All my London belongings are packed away in boxes stacked in a funny little room beneath the eaves. (I’m a little worried that the floor won’t support it). All the rugs have spread with moth repellant, The doors are locked, the plants watered, the rubbish taken out, I might have forgotten to wash my tea mug this morning, but it’s a minor thing as the cleaner will come in a few days, and for all the heat wave it’s hardly the tropics so hopefully it won’t be too unpleasant.
I took the National Express to the airport, and noted:
- Although there was a good bit of traffic heading towards London, a large proportion, 40-60% was commercial. Pleasing what a functioning public transport sustem can do.
- Lots of pest exterminators along the way. That’s the suburbs for you. One had a pest of the week sign up, which this week, and probably every week, was ‘Brexit’.
I feel there must be more, but since I won’t post this till I can remember my VPN password, off I go.
The theme of this year’s travels is Gorillaz’ ‘Melancholy Hill’.