There’s a taxi stand outside our building and cab fares are cheap here, but we’re only a hundred metres from our nearest metro stop and the line goes to the airport with no changes, so actually the most difficult part of the journey is the 86 steps down from our flat to the street with full suitcases - though better than carrying them upstairs. Terminal two is nicer than terminal one, where we arrived. But, as with most airport upgrading, what has improved is the facility’s ability to separate you from your money. Reject the overpriced Bulgarian brandies (tellingly priced in euros). Had intended to spend remaining Bulgarian coins at the airport but discover coffee is double the price at terminal one. So a small bottle of water does it. Actually have small empty water bottle with us, which we refill with perfectly drinkable tap water, so that’s us sorted.
Good flight with plane not full, and queue at immigration only about 15 minutes, as we wonder whether next week, should there be a Brexit crash out on Friday, will see massive longer aliens queues. Ask immigration officer, who says who knows - she’s had nearly three years to make up her mind and she still hasn’t made up her mind. So we do what we do until someone tells us otherwise. Laughs, and over there we’ll be in the long queues.
Back in our old digs off Queensway, though on second floor (i.e. North American third floor, as European storey counting begins with zero). Small, but nice in a retro thirties way. And, two or three times a year, home. No wifi - that’s for the coffee shop office - but the best telly we get during the year. BBC news channel covering the EU response to the latest UK request for a Brexit extension. Embarrassingly (one would think, but Theresa May has an extraordinary ability to withstand embarrassment), May gets to make an hour long presentation and then is sent away while the other 27 EU countries decide her fate over dinner. But we fall asleep before the final announcement.
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