New York, New York, the traffic and the noise...

So, it's really 2am in any sensible time zone. But here it's only about 9pm. But I'm still pretty awake, notwithstanding the flight, and a strange ride to the hotel (there's a kind of shared transfer service; I'm not absolutely sure I can explain in writing at 2 in the morning) with a snippy Australian.

The check in and flight were magnificent, largely because J had booked us Upper Class without letting me know. There was a sale apparently. Hurrah! The lounge was amazing; although we thought it best to leave it until midday for champagne. Flight was also wonderful with flat bed chairs (ones which turn into flat beds; they aren't chairs and flat beds at the same time, that wouuldn't work). And I managed to get some sleep (which I *never* do on planes). Also watched Slumdog Millionaire and Coraline, and cried at the former, of course.

I am going to, when more awake, take issue with the assertion that you can identify airports with ennui. But I need to marshall my arguments carefully. But I will be pitching for a mixture of expectation and frustration. Let there be due warning, and salvos across the bows...  ¶ 1:59 AM