One thing I love about my place in France is the peace. The tranquility. So it was wonderful returning to Richmond where usually I can hear planes over head every five minutes. As a travel journalist I sort of feel that I have to bear the brunt of the noise as I make my living from it, so to speak. But it was special running through Richmond Park this morning (last week training for the London Marathon, not looking forward to it, ankles and knees sore but the worst is the sore underarms - they don't tell you about that one!) and not hearing one single plane. It's still not as peaceful as my place in France, but Richmond is a much more beautiful, quixotic place without the planes. You can rest in peace here as well now.
Sunday, 18 April 2010
ASHES TO ASHES
Just back from a two week break in France. Only just though. Like millions around the world I could have been trapped, but thankfully I found alternative means of transport. Who else out there believes everyone has been grounded because they don't want us to see alien activity and they've told us we can't fly because of volcanic ash? As a former avid watcher of the X Files, I believe anything now - but I liked the idea that Willy Walsh flew up in a 'test flight' to see if it was safe to fly. Would have made interesting headlines if he had proven it wasn't. Ashes to ashes and all that.