A diversion

Another blip on the move - last night a historic tuna-fishing site; today Gatwick Airport, where I’ve just been watching Scotland’s Calcutta Cup victory on a silent tv in the middle of the concourse. It’s fair cheered up the wait - having left our hotel at 8am and arrived here by 1pm, we have a long gap between flights.

The excitement of the game was enhanced (or not) by the growing involvement of passing viewers, the incomprehensible on-screen commentary, and the antics of a man in matching tweed jacket and kilt who broke into a Highland fling at the final whistle.

But now? I just want to be home ...