Lost in London

Being Book Group day meant I was up and off to the flat after the gym this morning. That sounds like I went straight after the gym but that’s not exactly true. I went home first then, after an offer of a lift from Mirinda, hung around. She was then on the phone for a very long time. I decided to go under my own steam rather than wait given her work calls can take anything from ten minutes to five hours.

The trip in was fine with a bit of entertainment supplied by a family sitting in front of me. The daughter didn’t know where they were going and at each station the father would grab their coats and start to get ready to get off the train only to sit back down just as the doors opened. What a jolly jape though the daughter was starting to get a bit annoyed by the time they reached Woking…where they were actually getting off the train. She cheered up after he told her there is an excellent cinema in Woking. And a bowling alley though she wasn’t quite so keen on that.

On the Tube I noticed another family group (mum, dad, teenage daughter) who looked a bit out of place. I noticed them mostly because the daughter was wearing headphones and a very glazed look on her face. Every time her parents spoke to her, she’d go through the rigmarole of turning the music off, hearing them, answering morosely then putting the music back on and going back into the negative space in her head.

Anyway, they left the train at Canary Wharf, just ahead of me and were standing at the ticket gates looking a bit bewildered until the father spotted the sign pointing to Heron Quays DLR station. He cried out in delight and told his wife and non-listening daughter. They set off through the underground shopping precinct.

I’ve described before how confusing the underworld of Canary Wharf can be if you’ve never been before. It’s particularly confusing when the signs run out. And so it was that I once more ran into them at the top of the escalator outside Starbucks looking completely bewildered. It didn’t help that it was lunchtime and the hordes were rushing by them like so much flood water.

I went up to the father and, in as friendly a tone as possible, asked if he was looking for Heron Quays. Without much surprise he nodded. I pointed to the end of the row of shops telling him to go all the way to the end and turn right; that there was a sign. His relief was immediate. He explained (needlessly) that they were tourists. I smiled and told him that Canary Wharf can be quite confusing the first time.

I spent the next few hours at the flat before heading back to Waterloo though not before taking a progress photo of the Maine Tower…

Progress – the core is at level 15

I reached Waterloo with five minutes to go before my usual Friday prevening train was due to depart. I had a moment to consider whether to get a coffee and wait for half an hour or…I went for the gates. And, of course, the train was very crowded with all of the Surbiton commuters. And, of course, I had to stand for the first 20 minutes. Mind you, I’m presently reading about the causes and history of the Spanish Civil War so the time just flew as I immersed myself in some pretty ghastly bloodshed…while leaning against the side of the toilet cubicle.

Back at home I invented a very lo-carb tuna steak dish which was delicious.