Another eye-wateringly early Stansted start, so a night at the Radisson Blu was in order. After a night out in Cambridge (just up the road from us) with MrsStut, and an emotional farewell at the station, I'm off on the surprisingly on-time CrossCountry train down to the airport. It's nice at this time of night, mostly because you can nab a table on these recently refurbished trains, that one can only assume have been refurbished by oompah-loompahs, given the pitiful seat pitch on the 'airline' seats. Really, I'm tall but not that tall, and I can't physically fit in - god help the people who get stuck in these seats all the way to Brum.

Anyway, it pootles down to Stansted cheerily enough, and I drag my rucksack (oh yes, this is definitely a rucksack trip) through the deserted station, half inexplicably hoarded off, the ticket offices' roofs covered in litter thrown from the overhead walkway. The hotel isn't quite in the terminal, but a short walk away, under a covered walkway.

It's very Radisson Blu (well, Radisson SAS as I know it) - big atrium, rooms very clean and correct, if a little dull. Ah, maybe now I travel predominantly for pleasure rather than for business, different things (such as character) become more important. I'm slightly disappointed to get an atrium-facing room - I do enjoy an airfield view - but these seem to be reserved for the business class rooms, which is fair enough. However, what these hotels do all seem to have is a 'thing'. A bit gesture of individualism for each hotel. This one has a wine tower.

The wine tower is odd. It's hard to tell exactly what it is at first. It's a blue tower, most of the height of the atrium, filled with wine racks. OK, that's a 'thing'. But no, it doesn't stop there: there appears to be a woman in there, on ropes, being lifted up and down while making odd, floaty gestures. I'm not sure how long she stays there. And I'm not sure if she actually carries wine down, lost a bet, or is a staff member on rota. It's quite an odd site, an attempt at Las Vegas that comes over a bit Blackpool.

Anyway, a Costa hot chocolate from the terminal later, and a good night's sleep follows. Check-out is from an automated machine, which is handy. And we're off!