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On my way back to London having had a bit of an adventure on Saturday night. I'd booked into a backpackers' hostel where I was half expecting dormitory accommodation. However, the door was opened by a polite and deeply shocked middle eastern man who showed me in to the tiny room, with three tightly packed bunk beds, of which a ladderless upper bunk was the only one vacant,. This was a bit dismaying. However, as I was putting sheets onto the thin plastic mattress, I noticed that all the other personal effects were very 'male' including a hookah and stash in the corner.

Despite being fairly desperate, I didn't fancy using the loo. However, initially I thought, I can handle this, a bit concerned about the brevity of my nightdress and lack of ladder. But as I walked up the street in Camden to find some food, my body suddenly gave me a different message, and I began to shake uncontrollably. After a quick consultation with Hamey, I walked back to Euston Road and tried a Premier Hotel. £197. I dashed back to Kings Cross, bought a ticket, and ran (dangerous given that I still hadn't been to the loo)!) to catch a train, with less than thirty seconds to spare, to stay with my sister and brother-in-law in Bedfordshire, before I'd had the chance to let them know I was on my way. They welcomed me warmly.

Rather liked this bleak landscape with the wind turbines churning away.