And so the sun rose over West London, as it does every day, but this morning was different. It is the summer solstice. King Arthur Pendragon lives down the road. I know this – I have a few drinks with him every so often down at The Bollo. Today, King Arthur is, presumably, down at Stonehenge. I am not at Stonehenge. I am in the bunker at my Staterooms, but I am up and marvelling at the way the sun rises in the sky… It is far too early to have a glass of Rioja and… in any event… turning up at a local pub at 8.30 to watch the All Blacks run riot with England at rugby, roaring on arrival and talking of solstices and druids, may have caused my Haka doing friends to go back to New Zealand.
The day has begun… and there is much to enjoy this day.