London quiet. That time when summer is a distant memory and plans for festive shopping haven't yet taken root. We go for dinner to a restaurant that is usually booked solid but find that there are only three tables taken.
The first Christmas tree of the year spotted as our cab passes a house in Pont Street. Is this a record ?
This morning the rain is bucketing down and the wind howling like a banshee. The sea pounding the shore like an uncaged beast. The single power line that connects us to the village and the grid is swinging backwards and forwards in the gale - candles are ready and torches charged in case there is a 'service interruption'. This is a morning when even the hardiest of dogs and their owners will have hurried walks....extremely hurried walks. 'The Font' is thankful that the 'cabin' has been over engineered. Interestingly, metal beams set six feet into the ground still manage to vibrate when hit by these storm winds.
Seven French airports were closed for a while due to bomb threats yesterday. Toulouse among them.