Going Home

It’s been an interesting couple of weeks, full of highs and lows. But now, I’m sitting in Manchester Airport departures, ready to head home. I’ve been bumped up into Business Class, as if someone knew I needed a helping hand, and I’m not about to take a picture of my boarding pass.

At some point over the next week or so, life must return to normal. And I’ve kind of lost track over the past fortnight, but I think we still managed a post a day together, didn’t we? Thanks for being there.

Tomorrow’s post may well be from mid-air, somewhere over Africa. But I’m not promising anything .

Remember when…

… all Facebook status updates had to begin with “is…”?

These are the sort if things you start to think about when you’re bored in an airport bar.


Bruce Hornsby and The Range are currently in charge of the soundtrack, Boddingtons are doing the beer, and the woman sitting behind me is providing the skinner. If you’re reading this, Penny, she can’t believe you were such a cow.

Personally, I’m not surprised. I never liked you anyway.