Up, showered, cats fed, no traffic, checked online, no-one in the security queue apart from one guy with 'you must be joking' size 'hand luggage' sent back to check it and no gate yet so I'm wandering terminal 1 in a daze. Airports are surreal especially when I'm a zombie; empty shops full of nothing I want to buy and a man with two identical BlackBerrys in his bag and Pret is full of airport staff - the lady I share a table with is trying perfume strips. Double hit mocha and mozzarella croissant and wait for a gate. I snoozed in the car, catching a glimpse of the fair setting up in Kew and the wrought iron bridge reflected (do you wright or wring iron?) and the tunnel. Ah hah - a gate.