The Gun

Next morning I drove like an arrow straight through the heart of London, meticulously observing all speed limits and average speed recordings after my recent mishap.

It is such a thrill to drive down the Westway and on to the Euston Road and then into the City (when there is light traffic). I stopped at the Barbican to pick up some pictures in store , grunting and heaving through the heavy steel fire doors that never open the way you expect them to.

Then on to meet The Principal who'd come up from Kent on the train. The DLR was all to cock for some reason and I ended up driving up the Mile End  road to meet her at Bow Church Station. Then a slightly circuitous route through Stratford and Leamouth to get The Gun pub in Docklands on the north side of the Thames opposite the Dome. My brother-in-law had put on a fantastic birthday lunch for his friends in the River Room. The views across the river in the sun were fab as the tide rose higher and higher. Lovely company, food, hearty singing of Happy Birthday and plenty of lubrication.

We departed down the steep stairway the brother-in-law resplendent in an inflatable crown and well into his cups. I steadied the path and carried out the presents. He is a wonderfully generous man.

And so to home, me in my boozy fug, The Principal guiding us back east as the light faded and darkness arose around us.

It was my birthday the day before.