Why are we letting a largely defeated virus change the nature of our society?
I am in a strange minority who find the sound of aircraft soothing, a constant reminder of our islands connections to the rest of the world. I live under the Heathrow flight path and, in happier times, I woke up to the reassuring rumble of the first 747 from Hong Kong. Now the sky is quiet, as if in memorial to the life we once had. Occasional yellow DHL delivery planes come by. Private jets may soon join them, ferrying the Uefa politburo to the football. For my neighbours, many of whose livelihoods depend on what was once our travel industry, its a silent death knell.