Boo. The day of leaving. Pathetic fallacy kicked in and it was stormy and raining hard. Gloomily looking at the weather map. Storms all along the eastern seaboard boded ill for the flight.

MJ and me however made good use of our last day. Went to the Hokey Pokey again... but this time armed with paper and pens and made mind maps and ate large food and drank coffee and had important, top-level discussions. Then home to make phone calls and so on and make the most of MJ's wonderful company.

Later went back to the Chinese retaurant next to the railway station, for mountains of noodles and ribs. Then I caught the train and headed back to Jamaica station, after saying wretched goodbyes to MJ. Leaving her offends the gods as I have said before.

Made it to the airport fairly easily and early. Lurked about feeling glum and failing to find something in the bookshop. Phoned MJ who had been crying. Went to the bar there and drank a solitary beer before boarding the plane. Amusing dialogue with a woman behind the bar who was Spanish speaking. I asked her what beer she had... One sounded unusual... San Morales. When I got it, it turned out to be Sam Adams. Mixture of her accent and my English ears.

Very happy to hear the pilot say that we were expecting a smooth flight to England. He was a lying bastard however and there was 5 big hours of hellish jolting & lurching turbulence. I was sat in the twitching tail of the jumbo too to make it worse. Decided the only option was to drink heavily but due to the freaking turbulence the Stewardesses were few and far between. Had one glass of wine, and eked it out over two hours. Muttering to myself about how I would never, never, never under any circumstances, ever fly again.

A train to Babylon (calling at Amityville) at Jamaica station. An omen if ever I saw one.

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