On my second black coffee of the morning and slowly coming to terms with the fact that it is Monday morning. I used my three days off wisely - discovering the Cork and Bottle wine bar off Leicester Square with my Cumbrian friend and Oliver, who used to live outside my flat on the Isle of Dogs (on a boat, not in a cardboard box). Had to translate for the drunken southern-types we met - my Cumbrian friend is very Cumbrian... all 'Yareet marra? Yan tan tethera' and all that.
Went to the Teenage Cancer Trust gig at the Royal Albert Hall and saw the Arctic Monkeys and an assortment of inspirational teens on stage. 12-year-old girls bounced up and down in front of us, punching the air, while we sat and discussed the dimension of the ceiling. Maybe we should have gone to a pensioner cancer gig instead?
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A northerner tries to make sense of London. While attempting to escape it.
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