It’s 11pm and the time remaining until I have to get up again is less than four hours -that’s when the whole airport madness starts. In a way, it’s like Christmas, you dread it but you also can’t do without. It’s the summer holidays. Everyone we know has already left or will be leaving shortly.
The countdown is running, carry-ons are bursting with pens, paper, books, ipods and juicepacks (....they won’t make it very far through the airport, but one can always try), suitcases have been acrobatically weighed, lists diligently checked, and alarm clocks woefully set.
Just a few minutes ago, Matt launched a final desperate campaign to take the labtop along after all, but was blocked, since the only way I intend to surf in the next three weeks is on my belly.
But, I’ll keep in touch somehow, because surely Fred will have some insights on Obama’s plight, the Arab Spring or plundering UK kids that are worth sharing...
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