Winterlight

In the middle of a spot of cleaning (adhering to the high standards stipulated in the rental (not really) agreement from the outset), the light through the Meadows started being all dramatic and lovely, and so I grabbed my coat and camera and had a lovely chilly walk admiring the foggy sunlight shafts beating through the trees and casting wonderfully moody silhouettes all over the place. It's hard to believe this is the same Meadows from just a few days ago.

With exactly 24 hours until my flight, I went online to check-in and book the best seats ahead of the crowds. The benefit of a connecting flight from Edinburgh to Heathrow is that it lets me check-in to the Cairo flight a good four hours before anyone else allowing the bagging of one of the leggy emergency exit seats. I toyed with the idea of upgrading, but it appears I can't. I've never been lucky enough to have been upgraded. An old friend of mine who used to work for BA claimed that upgrades were chosen by the cabin crew who would go for good-looking people in a suit first, and then just any old good-looking person after that. How fickle, and exactly the type of thing I'd do if I had that job.

After checking-in online, and nodding my head in an approving manner at the BA App which shows my boarding card on the phone, I popped into town for the essentials that Cairo cannot provide, namely jeans, boots, socks, pants, Mini Eggs, Creme Eggs and Nairn's oatcakes (the latter of which I am smuggling a total of ten boxes of into Egypt; I'm tempted to wrap everything up and pretend they're all Christmas present in case I get stopped and relieved of all my money by a customs twat.) The other things that Cairo cannot provide, such as customer service, manners, peace and quiet, cleanliness and culture were also soaked up during the afternoon, culminating in an ad-hoc pint of Grolsch Weizen (a sublime wheat beer) at the Tempus bar with a good friend, who I cannot name because his missus despises me.

Right, I'd better go and finish off my packing.