British Airways is trying to emulate Ryan Air, the airline everyone loves to hate, in their services to Italy out of Gatwick. I took the brunt of this - I will not go into detail - but trust me, do try to avoid the BA services from London's other airport. They are cheap, but you got what you pay for. I eventually tumbled into bed at 3 am. And apparently at least Ryan Air are punctual whatever other privations they impose on you......
But I was invigorated after a short sleep by reading a characteristic piece in yesterday's Guardian by George Christie, in time for the opening of a new production of Figaro at Glyndebourne next Wednesday. George is, I believe, the only person living who was on the stage at Glyndebourne for the opening performance of the Festival on May 28 1934. His mother was singing Susanna - George was born on January 31 1934 - 7 months later.
He captures the spirit of the place and its endeavours perfectly. And he speaks with his own unmistakable voice. I immediately called him and told him so. He was very pleased!
I am now off to Garsington. At the moment the sun in shining. And no doubt Offenbach will keep us smiling whatever.
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