Thursday, February 9

YEAR:  2017 | Tags:  | | |


Stockwell Station, 12:05


I leapt out of bed at 8:00 this morning feeling unexpectedly hungry. After dressing, in rapid succession, I bought an i newspaper at the station, a variety pack at Poundland, Vegetable Oxo at Sainsburys, and a cheese and onion pasty from Greggs.

At the hotel I showered, shaved and packed. I worked out an interesting workaround for Photoshop Touch that will enable me to keep using it for awhile. Then I checked the Diners Club lounges at Heathrow,and then I checked out.

I took the underground from Balham to Stockwell, and now I have changed. I stand waiting for a Victoria line train to Green Park where I will change again to the Piccadilly line. I notice the mirror for looking round corners in the three minutes before the tube train arrives.

I will notice at Heathrow that nobody asks to see my passport; only my boarding pass. I will find the No1 Lounge which turns out to have waiter service. Not only that but the waiter will recommend which wine I should have with the lamb hotpot I order. I will follow this with a cheese plate with my own recommendation of spring water.

When I checked in yesterday morning I switched my seat to 28C, at the rear of the plane. When I board I will discover that I have the row to myself. Irma will phone to say she will meet me.

I will read the first six issues of Black Hammer on the plane, plus the giant sized annual. They definitely benefit from a single concentrated reading, and I like the idea and the story more and more with each issue. The slow pacing and the restrained wackiness gradually build into something genuinely moving.