Mooching around Detroit Airport...

When I arrived at the airport I went straight through security – there's not really any other option – and then I decided, almost immediately, to walk the entire length – in both directions – of Concourse A. It was long, but I'll never know how long unless I do it again, making sure that Strava is working properly. I would say it's around three miles. Easily. I'll probably do it again after lunch at a place called Mezza. The walk set me up for a cappuccino and I'll probably have the roasted salmon with greens and potatoes afterwards. I prefer to eat healthily and in all honesty I've done pretty well, but I've let myself down with the odd bun, the occasional cookie and so forth. But let's not fret about that, not now at any rate.

Salmon at Mezza

As I travelled the length of Concourse A I passed by many a store selling shoes and electronics and books and dresses and luggage, you name it, and I knew as I passed each store that I didn't need anything. I was darn certain I wouldn't fall foul of 'the society of the spectacle' and I was going to write 'so far, so good', but that would imply that I was having difficulty holding back, resisting. I'm having no trouble at all.

The last time I was in Detroit was 2013, roughly 10 years ago, and I still remember it, or bits of it. The weird thing is that on my last visit I was advised to stay in the airport, which I did, and here I am a decade on, doing exactly the same thing. Detroit is the only airport I can think of where I have spent the best part of an entire day at the terminal building. I think it's undergone a little facelift since I was last here, but the two-car overhead train is still going strong although I can't for the life of me remember if any of the restaurant brands are the same, possibly not.

So, I'm sitting in Mezza Mediterranean Grille and I'm about to order the salmon. I just needed that coffee, I don't know why. I'm still smarting over my own stupid decision to stay in Detroit another night, it still hurts somewhat but I guess I'm going to be rewarded.

Outside, the weather looks grey and pale, but it's still warm. It's impossible to tell where the sky starts. 

Pan Seared Salmon with carrots, green beans and garlic mashed potatoes ($29) and a cappuccino, which I'm guessing is around $5. So around the $34 mark at a guess. 

Back at Gate A36 and nearly time to board.

Mezza is opposite gate A53, there's a Forbes Travel Store a little further up and then it's gate A55.

I feel myself getting a little tired, which is a good thing. Another circuit of the concourse after lunch should do the trick and soon it'll be time to board the plane. This time I won't accept any offers to take another flight. Walking can really whack me out as I was doing a fair pace earlier.

About to depart Detroit...

The salmon was good and now I'm trying to get the bill, but I think it might take a little while. I'll just sit here on the laptop for a while as I've got a good table and, guess what, in the background, somewhere, I can hear Slade, Cum and Feel the Noize – I can't remember how they mis-spelt it, but I know they did as I used to have the single, on the Polydor label. "And I don't know why!" Great song.

There's under four hours until I fly home and I must stock up on mineral water.

I killed the time, I walked, I drank mineral water (by the gallon) I was constantly visiting the restrooms as a result, I passed gates where people I didn't know were flying to places near and far, familiar destinations and unfamiliar ones, and I tried to imagine their houses, whether they were wooden structures like those I'd seen in sleepy Walkerville, I imagined station wagons and pick-up trucks, sprinklers on green lawns and lazy summer days.

The hours passed slowly but surely. Soon it was time to board and it was good to discover that my window seat (37J) was next to a vacant seat so the journey home was as good, if not better than the outgoing flight. It was smooth running all the way, I watched a couple of movies (No Country for Old Men and Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban) and I read a little and wrote a little too. We landed on time, passport control and baggage reclaim were a doddle and I decided to take public transportation all the way home: the Elizabeth Line to Farringdon, Farringdon to Moorgate, Moorgate to London Bridge, London Bridge to East Croydon and a cab home.

At London Heathrow – home at last!