Madrid Barajas Airport

I clocked Terminal 4 as a possible blip on the homeward leg when I flew in to Spain last Wednesday. Indeed, it was a good candidate for photography this morning, in bright early light, as I arrived at 0730 on the first flight from Pamplona, having left the hotel at 0530. I was on the phone to Mr A on Wednesday in the airport, and I looked up and contemplated the pillars. A Norman Foster creation, I asked him? He was on the internet, and looked it up. No, Richard Rogers. Figures.

A smooth journey home, with no alarms apart from quite high winds coming into Edinburgh this lunchtime. Two changes - Madrid and LHR - and no time between planes even to catch some water, never mind something to eat.

Now I'm back on my chair contemplating a quiet evening in.