Sitting and staring outta ma hotel window

Arrgghh. A longf day that took me from seeing my Mum to Heathrow. There Storm Eleanor put paid to my two-leg flight via Schiphol I was re-routed via Paris and the flight got very delayed.  At CDG my Florence flight had already left. Air France kindly gave me a meal box and some really cheap and nasty toiletries. They offered a BandB but the Boss had worked magic and got me a room at the nearby Sheraton. I picked up some extra food at the MandS in the deadly quiet environs of the terminal and staggered with my duty free and a battered cardboard box with tape handle of food and washbag to the swish reception.

It was already ten and after watching a Swiss TV news channel where Eleanor had blown a little Swiss train off its tracks I quaffed Fleurie from Marks (the irony of it all) and sat through a murder mystery set around the Moulin Rouge half understanding it in French.

I was up a 5.20am next morning (4.30 in old money so to speak) . It was a very short stay.