I'm on my third day of my forty day and forty night adventure. Far from being a self impose exile, my journey so far has been one of planes, trains and automobiles - lots of sitting down, a bit of dribbling, quite a few movies and a lot of fairly uninspired airline catering. Aside from catching up with the latest movies, breathing in a lot of recycled air, giggling as the man in business class changes into his PJs, resisting the urge to slap the stupid whinging woman across isle, gagging as some heinous individual farts in my vicinity in the immigration queue, acting confused while not certain as to whether I'm on the Heathrow Express platform or the District Line and generally being a little tired at the end of 30 hours travel, one does
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