We landed at Luton at 3am this morning, having just flew over London on our way back from Gran Canaria. By the time we got through the normal post-flight rigmarole it was about 3.45 (I’m not sure if they were checking our passports more thouroughly, given the circumstances) and WHSmith had all the early editions of today’s papers.

Between us, we picked up a good cross-section and began reading all about yesterday’s horrors, the details of which hadn’t been too clear from the limited satellite coverage we’d been able to see before we left at the other end. Only then did the true extent of what had happened really start to sink in.

I got back to Northampton at about 6am in the end, too tired to read any more of the gory details, too tired to comprehend it all. I slept for a bit, I woke up again early this afternoon and started reading yesterday’s blogs. I’m glad that everyone I know down in London seems to be OK.

I’ll probably go through it some more tomorrow, but for now that’s all I need to know. There’s only so much you can get through when you’re sat in front of a computer with a tiny screen, no mouse and a 56k internet connection.

Incidentally, the holiday was good.