Friday 23 February 2007

flying home
It's pathetic. Flying air berlin, I'm 40 years old and I'm still amused that the plane is a Fokker.

I'm on my way back from a very useful evening and morning spent playing through the music for our 12 March concert with Lucy and Alison, at Malcolm Greenhalgh's house. And we had a fantastic Sri Lankan curry in Priya in Walthamstow: great dosas. In transit I'm alternately reading Kathleen Jamie and listening to the Tout Passe 1st edit.

Now that I'm home and uploading this, I was going to write something to assuage my carbon-footprint-guilt about flying to London just for a rehearsal, by saying that for the next couple of days I'll be travelling by train as penance. But with the news of tonight's London-Glasgow train crash, it doesn't seem very appropriate any more. That train was one of my alternatives.