London is a blur. I arrived, and it wasn‘t on Platform 9 3/4, and it wasn‘t magical. Just the crowded station of St. Pancras; anouncements, suitcases being pushed and pulled past me, a child crying, two lovers hugging, the music coming from some shop. I circled the top floor of the station and I circled the lower floor and when I was completely lost in my circle, Inga finally found me. She is very good at finding me (I should ask her how she does it, because I keep losing myself).
It‘s good to be nibbling at a Waggon Wheel at midnight in a stranger‘s kitchen when your thoughts slowly turn into dreams.
(Quote: A.A. Milne)