Anyone got a spare pair of legs?

Because I've walked mine almost into submission, and my hips and feet are also trying to get in on the act. I'm trying not to think about the 20 minute walk to the car in Leeds...

So I've been up since 5.10am, which really shouldn't be legal on a weekend. To be fair, it's not much earlier than the Monday to Friday alarm, so I coped! Drove into Leeds - amazing how quiet the roads are at that time on a Saturday - and left the car at work, then hot-footed it down to the station. I like to get there a bit early - well you never know do you (though by contrast I do chafe at the 2+ hours stipulated by airlines).

So after a smooth trip down - I love first class - we arrived to a bright and sunny London morning. A bit nippy though... Still, it's winter!

First stop was St Paul's Cathedral. I can't believe I've never been before. Though the £16 entry fee would've put me off slightly - sixteen quid! As you can see, I braved and conquered the 50,000 steps up to the Golden Gallery (oh alright fact fiends, there are only 528 steps, but it felt more like 50,000, okay??). And I guess all that swimming must be doing me some good because, although I was out of puff at the top, I didn't have to stop on the way unlike some - yay me :-)

Once I'd navigated the narrow spiral stairs back down (dizzy much anyone?), I hopped back on t'underground and headed off to the old Spitalfields market. I could've walked but my legs were feeling decidedly jelly-like after all those steps! It's a really nice open air (but under cover) space, with little boutique shops and restaurants around the edges and - today - stalls in the middle full of vintage bits 'n' bobs. I was tempted several times but managed to rein myself in. Had a lovely lunch sitting watching the world go by (and the people playing table tennis outside) then I was off again, across zone 1 to the Strand.

Kathy had very kindly reminded me that Twinings have a London shop, so I had to call in. Okay, I did a bit more than window shop - I splurged a little. In my defence, one thing is a gift for someone else! It's an odd place - very deep (I mean space-wise, I'm not commenting on the intellectual prowess of the staff) but only a few feet wide. Makes for some interesting encounters in a busy shop (listen, I'm single, I've got to take it where I can get it).

I walked down to the Thames then and was going to go for a wander along the embankment, but the wind had got up quite a bit and I didn't fancy spending any length of time looking like I'd hung upside down by my nkles before applying a full tin of Silvikrin, so I headed back towards the tube station.

Had a bit of a change of heart after a sit down (and a gingerbread latte and lemon tart) in Costa, so I walked across to Covent Garden. It was nearing 5pm by this time, and I thought CG might be shutting up shop, but all was still brightly lit and welcoming, and packed (I remember being in London with my ex once, and being amazed that the corner shop stayed open all night. - we bought the following day's paper at about 11.30 one night).

I had a good look round and was abused by one woman for standing too close to her when I was trying to see over her shoulder. Well, she didn't actually say anything to my face, but said loudly to her male companion when she was about 3 feet from me "what is it about people always standing too close to me, what's wrong with them?". I wanted to say "don't flatter yourself love, your big fat head was just in my fucking way" but the moment passed. I gave her the evils though.

After all the excitement - and the walking and the people - I was almost glad to get back on the tube to Kings Cross. And now we're speeding northward, somewhere between Peterborough and Grantham I think (or maybe Grantham and somewhere else - all I know is I've just had my free tea woo hoo). Hopefully I should be on the sofa with a cuppa by 9.30. Poor Charlie, his stomach will think his throat's been cut.

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