The Motors. Bless.
Anyway, this post comes to you from the departures lounge at Gatwick’s North Terminal. Not bad considering I should currently be sitting in some nice bar in Budapest, having arrived about two-and-a-half hours ago from Heathrow.
So you can say that it hasn’t been a great day so far. Having left home on time, dropping Tom at his childminder en route, I soon ground to a halt on the M25. I had a rotten time of it on the M25 on Monday, but this was even worse, to such an extent that I stopped the engine and sat reading for 15 minutes. Clearly, it was even less of a great day for the unfortunates in the accident at junction 10, but it meant that it was soon obvious that I was going to miss my flight. Malev have been as helpful as they can be, given that they have no later flight from Heathrow and have got me on the evening flight from Gatwick, but it has cost me £100 (although that includes a compulsory upgrade to business class due to economy being packed to the gunwhales) plus £11 for a two hour trip on the tube and train (I needed to leave my car at Heathrow as my return flight takes me there).
Which brings me to today’s idle thought. How come, as you amble along the Piccadilly Line, you pass Barons Court (no apostrophe), Earl’s Court (Earl who?) and Knightsbridge (all one word)? Any ideas why these names should be constructed differently? And is there a link between the noble places?
Anyway, more nonsense after the weekend, assuming my journey goes ok and there are no riots. In the meantime, check out the cricket and then go along to the food festival at Glynde Place this weekend.