Heathrow gets passing marks today, I'm amazed to say. Still remodelling those long labyrinthine hallways of theirs, but the lines were short and the baggage appeared unmolested by its travels. A young rock band was checking in behind me. Two guitar cases, a drum kit and a keyboard. They aren't too famous, because no screaming groupies greeted us at arrivals. They also aren't EU citizens because I spent time with them in the Passport line. Just a young group travelling and getting a few gigs on the way.
But Virgin is looking a little shopworn these days. Not as free with the online refreshments as before. And I miss the "Think Pink" radio stream with Jackie Clune.
The town is now a 'university' town, and there's the new movie theatre/bowling alley shopping complex to explore. Went into an MVC and Johnny and June were singing about Going to Jackson, which I'll accept as a good omen. Still: no copy of The Rakes. My taxi driver was a Hawkwind fan and his kids can't stand his taste in music. We had a great talk about everything including politics, media, the sorry state of the world and -- naturally -- music.
Off to check the work emails now.