I was briefly a Brit Back In Water in the small hours of this morning, when our flight from Crete landed at Gatwick Airport at 2am, leaving myself and The Special One (that’s the wife, not Jose Mourinho, by the way) with a few hours to kill before flying back to New York.

Back in the old days (as I believe I’m now entitled to say, given that I am both married and 34 years old in less than a week) this scenario would have involved the two of us finding the comfiest bit of concrete floor or bench in the entire airport, curling up in the smallest ball possible, and hoping to get a couple of hours kip among the screaming Malaga-bound masses.

Thankfully Simon Woodroffe, the guy behind Yo! Sushi, has now come up with the Yotel, which crosses first class airline cabins with the pod hotels so favoured by the Japanese. Our cabin can have been no bigger than a ten foot square, with a tiny bathroom stowed away at the side. But with all amenities seemingly folded up into the walls, it had everything that you could possibly need to enable some much needed relaxation (including a flat screen TV and a built in plug so that you hook up your iPod to their in-cabin stereo system) before another long flight. Admittedly room service seemed to consist of plastic trays of microwaved lasagne, but who’s complaining given that the whole kit and caboodle cost 61 quid?

Ladies of the Gatwick night will no doubt be thrilled to know that the Yotel charges by the hour, by the way. No more visits to the murky depths of shadowy Norbiton for them, methinks.

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