Gatwick: The Last Honest Place on Earth (Until the Wi-Fi Drops) There are two kinds of international travelers: those who have slept on a Gatwick bench at 03:47, and liars. Tucked improbably close to London yet closer still to existential dread, Gatwick Airport—code LGW, motto “Please Continue to the Next Available Queue”—has spent seventy years…
Weather Bristol: How a Drizzly English Backwater Became the Planet’s Atmospheric Punchline By Dave’s Foreign Correspondent, still drying off in Gate 43 Let us begin with the obvious: the weather in Bristol, population 465,000 and shrinking faster than British diplomatic credibility, is not, in itself, interesting. It is grey, damp, and insistently mediocre—like a LinkedIn…
Felpham: The Village That Accidentally Became a Global Metaphor by “Sir” Reginald Blight, Senior Coastal Stringer-at-Large Drive ninety minutes south-west from London, past the duty-free cathedrals of Gatwick and the Brexit car parks of Crawley, and you will eventually spill onto a pebble beach where gulls scream like unpaid interns and the air smells faintly…
