After a non-too arduous journey we find ourselves in Luton; a town with all the charm of a stick dipped in shit. The room we are in is reasonable enough, although the small kitchenette area raises more questions than it answers. EasyJet was...enjoyable. It was nice to see Scotland disappear from under us. The feeling being ruined, obviously, by England coming hurtling towards us with very little warning.
I haven't slept in 25 hours now and I don't appear to be feeling any ill effects. How long this precarious balance of caffeine and crippling tiredness will last remains to be seen. We're heading for Londontown now. It's cold, snowy, wet, expensive, miserable, English and most definately ours.
I love flying. That was my first time in a plane. I did not cry. Not even a little bit. Now Gordon and myself are off to London for a bit of sightseeing; two unemployed young Scots giro playboys are about to be unleashed on London.
I miss you all very much.
And so it goes.
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