Middlesex ex-Hospital

Ryan and I take the Metropolitan into town from Rickmansworth. I get off at Great Portland Street and go visit my mother. He continues to Euston Square and is checking into the Rathbone.

Mum's going to a concert. My brother's partner, Louise, is also getting dolled up to go to her firm's xmas party at the Natural History Museum. I'm going out too - taking Ryan up to Islington to meet a couple of our Cucumber colleagues.

I walk to the Rathbone via Cleveland Street. The old Middlesex Hospital site has been boarded up for years. The owners rent out space as flats for cheap to keep squatters out. Louise used to live there, under the gaze of the PO Tower, between Oxford St and Tottenham Court Rd. Now they live in Bournemouth and she commutes into town once a week.

Ryan and I walk up to Islington and meet Tooky outside the Balenger - a smart French bistro. Aslak arrives a bit later and chooses a tasty bottle of red, which goes well with the various smart plates of cow derivative that we order: ribeye for the American, tartare for the Norwegian, onglet for the Englishman and liver for the adopted Scot. We even treat ourselves to pud.

Thence to the Kings Head for a pint and a nip before Uber whisks Ryan and I back to Fitzrovia. It's an Uber Pool ride, and we drop off one lady on the way and pick up another. She's a very English Azerbaijan Iranian, working at parliament. Within minutes she has given Ryan her number and offered to give him a mini tour of the Palace of Westminster tomorrow, all on the strength of him claiming to have read a tome entitled Azerbaijan Diaries. Not your typical chat up line.