Over night snow blanketed London in a deep sleep. Cars and buses have been cocooned in a heavy white dream, the city’s greys muted to silence, corners softened to gentler curves.
Of course predictably, that also means the airport has been thrown into chaos – information screens swarm with blunt red cancellations and a flock of euphemisms left to lighten the blow of the snow.
It seems I can get as far as Madrid but the route from there on is suddenly in the cloud. But I’ve found my quiet place and it will take more than a few flakes to shake it.
My feet are on the road with the first step few steps taken my worries ebbed on out of sight. I’ve remembered who I am with a bag on my shoulder. I have my passport, some money and a change of clothes. The rest is optional extra.
In the airport the soft lilt of Spanish wafts past like the smell of sunshine and I can almost taste that mojito… it might just have to wait for me on ice.
I am not sure how easy it will be to get online from Cuba.. or for that matter when I will get to Cuba.. but I will be writing, so watch this space.