Fog off

I think the MC-ing went OK. To be honest, I was so over-tired that I can't really remember very much of it. This is probably a blessing.

The only flight from Edinburgh to London City on a Saturday left at 7.30 a.m. So I was up at six. On a Saturday. Lovely. My flight - by some miracle - actually departed on time and was on schedule to land early. Of course, it was not to be.

"Ladies and gentlemen, whilst I was talking to you a minute ago, air traffic control have been in touch. There's severe fog at London City and we're not allowed to land by law. We're going to hold for ten minutes and then divert to Birmingham."

Erm, Birmingham? Something wrong with Heathrow, Stansted, Gatwick, Southend and Luton, was there? Apparently so. Fog.

I realised that it was unlikely I'd be home before about 4 p.m. and started to sulk quite effectively. Imagine a six year-old who's just been told that she can't have a My Little Pony, but her little sister is getting a brand new Care Bear. Imagine the fortitude of the sulk. That was me. I felt that the instruments on the plane were probably up to the job and the pilot should just have risked it. Apparently not everyone else on the plane felt the same way. But - by yet another miracle (two in one day - I am blessed), after a 40-minute delay, we were cleared to land at City and I went home and slept. The story has a happy ending.

Nice weekend actually. Lot of tidying and unpacking and repacking (off to Norwich today). Next three weeks are going to be very stressful, so apologies for any grumpiness.