A bit of a contradiction. There’s practically nowhere to walk round North Terminal, but the imaginary pet dog in my life had need of some exercise before darkness fell. After the frustration of spending the absurd time indoors relative to time in the aircraft, even the fuel-scented air of the environs of the Premier Inn seemed bearable.
It’s a lovely afternoon down here, but now the sun’s setting it’s growing chilly. Nevertheless, the Gatwick rabbits were out for their evening silflay and didn’t seem remotely put off by either cold or pedestrians.
Guess they don’t see too many ...