Choosing a Covid testing center at St Pancras seemed like a great idea: within walking distance of the place where I was meeting a friend for lunch; compatible with VeriFLY, the app that makes checking in much easier, because it stores all one's vaccination and test details - and so on. I had a 12 noon appointment, and had registered all my details in advance, and was there at 11.40, to be on the safe side ... Here's part of the line. The line, and general air of resigned urgency, was so notable that it - yes, this very line - even made the New York Times today. It took me an hour and a half to be seen and swabbed - that was the end of my hopes for lunch - and then they had to run after me, because they'd made a mistake and given me a PCR test and not an antigen one - so I had to be swabbed all over again. Somehow the architecture seemed ironic, though I can't work out why.
At least I could go and buy my father some Christmas cards at the British Library, since he'd forgotten to get any ... whether or not he remembers to write them may be another matter ...
(oh, and mercifully, the test came back negative, in an impressive 1 hr 15 minutes).
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