Boston to London.
Early early early. It was pretty brutal getting up having gone to bed at half three, but I made the 5.45am lobby call. There were a few other folks sharing the van to Logan Airport, but when we were still one missing at 6.15am I got out of the van and got into a cab. There comes a point when a man feels the need to take charge of his own destiny. Especially when tired, grumpy and hung over.
The flight to London was pretty empty and pleasantly uneventful. I didnt sleep, oddly, but was quite happy to be reclined in my little flying pod. The joy of the early flight is that you get into London in the evening of the same day, rather than at crack of dawn the following morning. Ive always found this makes the jetlag much more manageable and gains you a night under your own duvet.
Sunday night in central London can get surprisingly quiet and tonight was one. I popped out for a takeaway (god bless Wagamama) and basked in the glow of being home. Its a bank holiday tomorrow, when normal people arent expected to work, so I am hoping for a reasonably leisurely re-entry day. Long bath, clean sheets, the beginning of civilization as we know it.