Manage to get up at 9:15, and to the supermarket at 9:45. There’s a river outside where a water main has burst. It looks like the water company won’t bother to do anything about it until after Christmas. Not sure that I could blame them.
The supermarket isn’t heaving yet, but is definitely busier than usual. Lots of confused people blocking the aisles making it difficult to get past. I’m supposed to be getting stuff to take to Sara’s, but realise that it would be easier to get it in Bath.
Back at the flat do… ironing shirts and… something or other… until I go out for a run at about 14:30.
There’s a boy playing with a yellow, radio controlled hovercraft in the flooded gutter.
It’s astonishingly foggy. It’s as foggy as Americans seem to think it is all the time, though that’s not the case. It’s as foggy as it is in the song.
Go along to Lambeth Bridge, then along to London Bridge, almost, and back from there.
I expect that the London Eye isn’t doing very good business today, although it might be a good opportunity for those who would be scared by actually being able to see something.
Back at the flat I shower and dress, then we go out again.
Up to Waterloo, tube to Tottenham Court Road, then Foyles, then a bus to the John Lewis Food Hall, where we buy Loganberry Jam and dulce de leche. Mmm!
Bus to Euston, where we have dinner at Chutneys, then waddle to Euston station and catch a bus home. Unwrap presents (H has given me shaving stuff and comedy DVDs, I gave her volume 1 of Simon Schama’s history of Britain, and Terry Jones on Medieval history).
Eat chocolates and watch Charlie Brooker’s Screenwipe and two episodes of a BBC4 history of kids’ programmes.
Up early tomorrow. The run seems to have reset something, internally.