Hey everybody! I'll soon be coming back to good ole Brooklyn!
I spent four and a half hours in the purgatory that is otherwise known as The United States Embassy UK. Of that time I spent a full five minutes in conversation with the relevant authorities who promptly smiled very nicely and told me that I would be allowed back in to the land of the free. It was definately one of those 'are the policemen getting younger?' moments as the young lady who interviewd me must have only been about 26.
The rest of the day was spent sitting in a huge waiting area with about 600 others watching a TV screen with a completely random collection of numbers which indicated who should go where and for what. I tried to read my rather good book (Andrew Marr 'My Trade, a history of British journalism') but kept getting distracted by the TV "678 please go to desk 23" and then "265 please go to desk 12" It made no sense. I was 430.
Thus, with a new spring in my step and the knowledge that I might one day again feel the humid air of my adopted city, I did what only Bowles could do, Checked in with those fabulous Holland boys and drank lots of beer!
Henry (of Henry and the Avenues fame) had decided that we should meet in an Islington pub called, wait for it.... The Embassy!
This was a fine choice until the standard North London drunk scottish bloke invited himself to our table and started heckling us about social class. Hester responded that she was a good working class gal whilst I muttered something and Henry just kept mum!
Scotish wanker made us remove ourselves to a slightly swankier location where we found the admirable Mr Thorne. I was itching for some cricket news but as these boys are sailing chums it wasn't the right thing to talk about.
Speaking of sailing, we all decided that we don't get enough of it and now, after a few cheeky phonecalls to boatyards Henry and I are taking charge of 'fiddler' a small dutch thing for a day of sailing and sunburn!
As I write I am waiting to hear from Henry about his latest round of missed trains. It looks like i'm going to have to pick him up at 12.30am!
There are some friends you'd do anything for (he's totally buying breakfast!)