Ah yes, those were the days. When I became far too old for rushing around, upside down, with my ar*e on fire, the next best thing was 'The Dulles'. Three per week, deep joy, especially if you were the slip crew (Sat - Sat) and no Belize to spoil the week of frivolity. Memories of M Street, Fish Market (2.5 litre beers glasses) and sunday brunch (all you can eat lobster & unlimited champers) are almost stronger than wizzing down the A5 in the Welsh mountains at the speed of heat
Of course, there is always a down side; 'The Quickie Dulles'. Up at midnight, sleep across the pond, back the next night, sleep across the pond, home 36 hours after departure.
