Saturday 10th May 2025

For reasons that will become clear, I had a day in London.

A day in London, and with no idea how to fill it.

Those of you from around the world, might well laugh and scoff at such a thought, but the truth is there are two Londons:

1. weekday London. 2. Weekend London.

And I could write a lit of things to fill a week of weekdays in London town, but the weekend?

You see, City of London churches close at weekends, as does much of The City itself.

And I was to find, large areas just south of the river also do a good impression of 28 Days Later too.

So, Jools dropped me off at the station with enough time to pop to Buffers for a bacon and sausage sarnie and a brew before buying the ticket and waiting on the platform.

Jools was going to have a quiet weekend at home, while I was going to walk the golden cobbled streets of old London town.

So, on the hour up to London, what did I decide to do?

I caught the Northern Line to Borough, which I wrongly assumed was near to Borough Market. I means its not far, but not obviously close.

And the roads were quiet. Such a contrast to Delhi a few weeks earlier, and even the buses that were seen were electric so made little sound.

Using the Maps app, I walked towards Borough Market, then to Southwark (pronounced Suthark) to pay a brief visit to the cathedral.

It was cool, though the sun was already high enough to feel its warmth. I walked along Clink Street, past the replica of the Golden Hind, and then onto the cathedral, dodging the joggers who weave in and out of the tourists and walkers.

Once I had been round the cathedral, retracing my steps back to Clink Street and along the south bank. I checked Maps, and my destination was 45 minutes away. Over an hour in Ian steps, and it was then I saw I was near Bankside Pier.

I could cheat and take a clipper to the Embankment or Westminster?

Yes, this sounded very good, and I could use the Oyster pas as you go card, and sightsee from the river at the same time.

Turns out I had a 15 minute wait, then squeezed aboard the packed jet boat, and in the central section of the river, it goes quite slow, so I got a seat near a window and watched the south bank roll by, until it was time to get off at Embankment.

I walked up Northumberland Avenue, until I came to the Sherlock Holmes pub. It was five past opening time.

Seemed ruse not to go on, buy a pint of Landlord and sit outside at one of the small tables and watch the world go by. And chat with locals and tourists too.

Around the corner from Trafalgar Square is the Old Shades pub, and where I was to meet an old friend, Graham.

I had even planned ahead enough to book a table!

He arrived and we dined on fish and chips washed down with pints of hoppy IPA.

Three hours passed, and I had to be in Lewisham, and Graham had to head home.

Why did I need to be in Lewisham?

To book into a hotel.

I walked up to Charing Cross, and a train to Lewisham was leaving in 5 minutes. I got on.

The train crossed the river, then weaved its way over Waterloo, Borough to London Bridge, then out through New Cross and onto the Dartford Line.

My station was next, and the hotel just a walk down the slope of the bus station and over the main road.

I checked in, went to my room and put on the football on the radio, then fell asleep for an hour.

One station along the line from Lewisham is Blackheath, and at the Halls Danny Baker was playing, and I had tickets. So, at half six I walked back to the station, caught the next train east, for one stop, then walked up the hill to Blackheath Halls, a fine Victorian building, with a modern theatre implanted.

Men and women of a certain age gathered, drank beer and talked football and music until it was time to go in. I had a seat at the front, at the side not in the middle for once, and at half seven, Danny Boy came on.

He talked at us until just before eleven, so once that over, a walk back down the hill, a three minute wait for a train, meaning I was back in room by quarter past.

A fine day.