Presenting the V&A and Mr Robert Smith

Heatwave agogo! A rare treat to have a whole weekend in london on our own time, not rushing to get somewhere, not having to use the Tube. Lovely!

Sauntered through Kensington Gardens, past Victoria's monument to colonialism - oops I mean her love letter to Bertie - I promised Dave I would build him a bigger one, possibly out of toblerone, but I may eat it before it's finished. Down Exhibition row dragging Dave into the treasures of the V&A (aka the musuem of global theft). The mastercraftmanship of the islamic tiles and rugs the height of my house was mesmerising. Upstairs I tried to absorb all the ancient pottery styles so I could check back on my sea pottery shards later but all I could think of was how great these amazing ancient pottery pieces would look washed up as a shattered piece at my feet on the shoreline, I am a total heathen....And not great with heat, which was rising up to that very floor so we danced in front of a fan then headed out. We accidently stumbled into the private members lounge in the V&A and were politely ushered out. The whole reason that made me swing by the V&A was to see the Frida Khalo exhibition bit it was sold out, but seeing groups of Frida fans dressed up to the nines walking about the exhibition was just as good though. The V&A has an amazing food bar, along with some tasty tipples, of which we of course partook.

Back over through Hyde Park with a few pit stops, and eventually sauntering to the gig. 65,000 people but it didn't feel like it. Hearing those old songs from my teens was very nostalgic, as was seeing 60 year old Goths fully geared up, despite the sweltering heat. Lovely to hear and see you Mr Smith. We meandered back to the apartment via a noisy pub full of happy English football fans and bemused tourists.