US Embassy

He wrote a series of guidebooks for people forced to travel on business. Ridiculous, when you thought about it: Macon hated travel.

We land before 7. I’m not firing on all cylinders and board a slow train to Paddington with my expensive Heathrow Express ticket.

The flat welcomes me, shower projecting hard water to cleanse me of a night of flight. I print documents for my visa visit to the embassy. Most will not be required.

The new embassy is near Vauxhall. The queues seem shorter than I remember, but the process, once inside, is unchanged. At the first window they prepare your photo and grab fingerprints. The second window is called an “interview”, but it’s cursory to the point of non-existence. Visa granted. I’ll get my passport back next week.

A quick lunch with Tim at Pret. A doze in the flat. Another shower. And then a transport of delight to the T5 Galleries South lounge. My flights at9 and they won’t let me into an earlier one with my ticket. “It’s cheaper to buy a new ticket” says the BA agent. So, I wait.