Big shopping malls are my idea of a personal hell, second only in misery to big supermarkets.
Last night I had to give Nikki a lift to Cribbs Causeway in Bristol, because her iPhone had died on her and so she'd made an appointment at the Apple Shop; a bit like making a doctor's appointment for your poorly kid, but infinitely more trendy, I guess.
Anyway, the paragon of moral support, I sat with her through her appointment in the Apple Shop, reading a book on the Kindle app on my Sony mobile.
In the sanctity of such surroundings and with the massed company of the Apple acolytes and their dedicates swarming all around me, the act carried a pleasant taste of heresy.
The photo was of a water feature directly outside the entrance to the mall. The image caught my imagination, and oddly, put me in mind of flying.
I used to fly before my return to sailing around about 2006. Gliders, so never at night, and I never got that good at it in daylight.
However, my logbook has as many landings recorded as take-offs, so I couldn't have been that bad.
Still miss it on the odd occasion (actually, the very frequent odd occasion) and can't believe I'm completely done with it. But there is only so much time in any given year. Even I accept that.
On discovering what I'd immersed myself in on putting the gliding on hold, a friend from my old gliding club once commented on how so many folks in the sailing fraternity seemed to be made up of "resting" glider pilots.
I think the two passions have much in common.