According to our local flying doctor/councillor, NASA could land the Space Shuttle at RAF London Kent Ramsgate Manston International Airport (Not according to this list - Ed.). In the small, wee-wee hours of this morning, however, it sounded as if they were launching one!
I was having a nightmare about Biggin Hill anyway, when at precisely 2.48am by the luminous dial of my Rolex Oyster (Whitstable Edition), a thundering sound that would have woken the dead rattled the roof of my cliff top mansion, and dislodged all the Baftas from my mantelpiece. I had to spend the next hour reading the memoirs of the late, lovely, dearly-departed Sir Alec Guinness before slumber returned to the Eastcliff eyelids.
Anywhere else and they would have been fined for disturbing the beauty sleep of local residents. Especially that of sensitive, celebrity types like moi. But not round here. And the airport's boss, Matt Clarke, can't even be bothered to turn up to consultative committee meetings. What an absolute ruddy shower!