Rembrandtplein

I was pacing up and down outside the laundrette at 8.20 this morning, and, even though the nice lady who works there was seven minutes late, I don't think I've ever been more pleased to see someone in my life. Clothes collected and packed, I got a taxi and was at the airport in good time. Phew. My taxi driver turned out to be my old postman, which was nice, though I did warn him that if my flat was burgled while I was away I'd know who to blame. And Ming Campbell was on the same flight as me, clearly fleeing the country after the disastrous Lib Dem result last night. An easy journey to my hotel via train and tram, a couple of films watched already, and now I'm off to work out my schedule for the rest of the week. Bring on the docs!