I seem to be in Newbury Park. More when I establish how or So, here we are in Newbury Park, which is about as far east as it's possible to journey within London. We seem to have missed the last tube home and we're currently standing at a bus stop, looking at bus routes which go to places I've never heard of. Who knows if Leytonstone, Romford or Barking is any nearer to Highgate than this god-awful place? All I know is that we're on a dual carriageway, surrounded by dodgy-looking geezers and there's not a flipping bus in sight. I can see a drive-thru' Macdonalds, a Topps Tiles, a JD Sports superstore and a lot of rubbish, which has gone all squishy following the mother of all rain storms this afternoon. I can hear a group of lads talking in hushed voices in an alleyway somewhere behind me. The air smells of sulphur and wee! Can anyone remind me why we've decided to hold the Olympics in this ghastly part of the world? I think East London is about as horrid as the world gets. Worse than the slums of New Delhi and possibly even worse than Slough.
Still, we've had a lovely night with our friends Karen and John, which included a very fine pasta meal and a lot of laughter.
Earlier today, we went to the BBC Club on Great Portland Street to hear the wonderful Circus Envy. They were, as ever, brilliant, playing an unplugged set of three songs from their new album, Secrets, which everyone should go out and buy immediately. Go on. Do it whilst you're reading this. Then buy a extra copy to give to someone for Christmas. It struck me, as I watched them play, just what increfibly fine musicians they all are. They're also a thoroughly decent set of lads.
Two buses later and we seem to be heading for Tottenham. I repeat. Two buses later and we're still nowhere near civilisation. Everywhere we turn, nasty people wearing hoodies are swearing or pissing against walls. There are no buses. I'm going to need your prayers tonight!
October 25th, 1661, was a busy day for Pepys, which began with lunch at The Wardrobe with Lady Sandwich, whom Pepys described as looking "very handsome." He was plainly on heat, one assumes because the bruising in his testicular zone had become somewhat less troublesome.
There was a post-dinner trip to the theatre, to see Love and Honour for the third time in as many days. Pepys thought the play was marvellous, but was the first to admit that his semi-residency at the theatre was bordering on tragic!
On the way home, Elizabeth and Samuel bumped into Mrs Pierce, who'd recently become something of a pin-up girl for Pepys.
Elizabeth saw right through her husband's desire to hang about like a puppy dog whilst talking "innocently" to Mrs Pierce, and there was a bad atmosphere all the way home.
Pepys took out his frustration on his clerk, Will Hewer, who was royally ticked-off for behaving arrogantly around the house. I'm sure poor Hewer had merely learnt a trick or three from his employer!
02.12am, and we're at Archway tube, about to get on our fifth bus of the evening! 24 hour city? I don't think so!
02.25am, finally home!