It cost me £60 to hug my daughter the other day. I love her immensely, and until now would have said that hugging her was a priceless experience, but I was wrong – there is a price, and it’s £60. She didn’t invoice me or anything – I went to collect her and her mum from one of Britain’s bleakest airports , and made the mistake of using the “pick up and drop off” zone.

Now I had thought, from years of flying, that people in the arrivals hall were there to pick other people up. They’re not – according to the people who run the airport parking. ‘Picking up’ only involves sitting at the wheel of your stationary car waiting for the person to climb in. So, when I left my vehicle in the pick up zone to run and lift my little girl up for a lovely cuddle, what I was actually doing, I’m told, was

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