Colourful

That's what today has been.

7 hours - the time spent on trains and in railway stations.

Got knocked over by some bloke in London Euston station - he was in such a rush that he just didn't see the obviously bewildered Northerner making a bee-line for the door. Bash. Hit the deck. He was desperately apologetic.

Much walking - made Liverpool on Wednesday seem like a short stroll.

Large coffee by The Golden Hinde.

Much conversation about cameras, settings, selling photos and art, underwater photography, scuba diving.

The sights and smells of Borough market - Ostrich steaks, kangaroo burgers. Was intrigued, but not enough to try one!

The South Bank, the skateboarders, the BMX boys.

Wagamamas for noodles and seeing the actor, Clive Swift, wander in and sit down for his dinner (Hyacinth Bucket's husband from keeping up appearances).

Living statues.

Escapologist.

Street dancers.

And then this chap, whose name escapes me, but who read mine and my brother's tarot cards - took forever - we didn't ask - we must have just looked like suckers! It was very amusing though. He was pished as a fart, and his little yappy dog took a liking to me and sat by me for a while.

Underground to Euston from London Bridge on Friday tea-time. Humans as sardines. Cattle are shipped in better conditions than that.

Made an earlier train home than expected.

In at 10.30. Just done the photos

All to see my brother and deliver two miniature sombreros that we collected for him in Spain LAST SUMMER!!!

Really, it was lovely just to have a few hours, just me and my brother, catching up, putting the world to rights and having some pretty grown up conversations. My my, how times change.

Soon to sleep, but only after the swaying sensation, like the motion of a train, subsides long enough for me not to feel 'icky when I lie down.