Manchester

As I sit here listening to some vintage Herbie Hancock on Spotify I am praying for some fine weather over the weekend, because Sunday morning will see me leading a group of fellow foolhardy early risers around my beloved Wormwood Scrubs on a quest to hear nature's finest west London singers. More on that dawn chorus on Sunday.

This morning I arose at a reckless hour to catch the first train out of town to Manchester to pick up my groups European Cup Final tickets. I left London bathed in pleasant sunshine and arrived in Manchester under a dark leaky cloud. I got a cab straight to Old Trafford and within an hour had picked up the gold dust-like tickets and was seated on the train back to London. 

A real smash and grab raid.