We made it …

OK, so we’re here. I’m actually sat up in bed in our hotel room – remember this is a small room which we are not allowed out of for 14 days – and it’s 3.30 am, 7.30 pm your time. I was flat out, but C couldn’t sleep. We are, if you like, sharing the pain.

[image error] at T2. We wore these masks for almost 24 hours … slept in them on the plane. You got used to them in the end

I am scribing our experience first hand on Instagram for two reasons. First I have 480 followers who are probably not in the slightest bit interested, but I’m subjecting them to it anyway. Second, because there will be a few travellers out there who might be interested in what it’s going to be like. It may help.

So, today, rather then recount our story of how we ended up in Gulag Ramada, I’ve copied and pasted my Instagram story below. It’s hardly prose, but it does paint a picture. And, if you want to follow me on Instagram (it’s like this with more photos and, thankfully much shorter) then look for @rolandtheauthor and follow away. [If you’re interested in politics and have a Twitter account, you can do the same there … it’s all pretty left of centre stuff, but you wouldn’t expect anything else.]

Anyhow, I’ve got to chalk a day off on the wall now …

Stay safe.

[image error] one-fifth full …

D – Day.