There’s a 4.44am-something psychosis as I arrive at terminal 3, several hours prior to departure. The early shift suddenly overwhelm my entrance as a coachload of functionaries sweep past me, zombie-faced, toward the myriad tasks that make up Heathrow – airport machine. I’ve got what you might call excess baggage. 4 crates of rice show gubbins plus my own luggage – probably about 120 kilos in all. But, with any luck, Craig will find me once more, once he’s dumped the hire car. Then, soon enough the London posse (Gerard, Bernadette, Gareth) will join us and the booty will be divvied up for the check-in.

Slowly life is breathed into this place as I hear the clatter of steel plates and the whir of  conveyor belt. We’re heading for the big TO. Toronto.