Captain America, One Dead Super Hero

Travel is difficult enough on your own, which is why I detest traveling en masse. No matter how decent a group of people are, it is always a miserable prospect to pile 20 people into a bus and dump them at the Aer Lingus departure counter 45 minutes before a flight.















We said goodbye to Dublin, and I returned to Manchester.
















Because of the Lille-Manchester game last night we ended up at the airport Radisson. It wasn't a half-bad hotel and it was a five minute walk from baggage claim through a sky way that looked like Tron.






























Truly Bizarre.
















I am being sent mixed signals.















You are all too kind, really.















This was the glimpse of a beautiful day that I had through the loading bay at The Apollo Theatre. It was the best five minutes of my week.














I am amused every single day by this box of noisemakers.















Andy, my giant friend who is out on this tour has been a friendly face each morning. This morning in particular he had me in stitches. A bit of background: Andy just bought a house in Halifax (Yorkshire, not Nova Scotia), and recently got engaged to his girlfriend of a year or so. She has moved into the new house and threatened to start decorating (which is better than threatening to stab him, which has happened before). The conversation I overheard this morning was something to the effect of 'you absolutely can not paint the front room turquoise. Why? Because ever time I come home I'll be needing to pee.' Yeah. It's good. He helps me make this, which is coming along, I must say.















Sorry. I am a man of few words today. So, with suitcase full of grey, and a heart full of sadness I carry on.