T5 (It's awesome!)

(That title is an in-joke, but I realise now that I've lost touch with everyone that would get it. Actually, I could also use this excuse more often...)

T5. Heathrow. This place is stunning. It's a bit like what Sarah Beany might have done with the set of Blade Runner. What's more, it's practically deserted – or maybe the scale of it simply makes it seem that way. What's more, there are more assistants than there are travellers. In the same way that new customers are currently getting a great deal from Northern Rock, Heathrow T5 is pulling out all the stops after the recent fiascos. There's just about every restaurant you could need here, outlets for the usuals, and also a large Harrod's. Don't start me on the lifts, though. Three floors: Tube, Arrivals and Departures. I decide to take the escalator, because it's good exercise and I can. It takes me up two escalators to Arrivals. The only way I can get to the top is to get the elevator. Unfortunately, you can't call it; you have to simply wait for it to stop. Even better than that, it never stops on the way up, only on the way down. So, I had to get the lift back down to the Picadilly Line, then all the way back up again. Cosmic.

So, this is promising to be the start of an epic trip. We've had a bite to eat in Waggamamas and managed to spend a fortune in a Wetherspoon's (which tells you something about the 'airside' price of beer here). We're now sitting at a fairly empty departure gate, with a bunch of oddly-dressed (presumably) Russians. Mind you, Dex is wearing a camouflage baseball cap, and looks a little like a soldier returning from leave. Apparently, it's illegal to wear camouflage in Jamaica. (more of those little gems as they occur to me)