since I have been in London, with pouring rain every day.
I couldn't find a Hilton at a rate I was prepared to pay at the start
of the week, so I stayed at a BW I picked off their website. I had no
idea that a hotel in central London could nevertheless be in the
middle of nowhere. Get off at Gloucester Road, go along Cromwell Road
a couple of hundred yards, then turn into Queen's Gate and keep going
for six hundred miles through the pouring rain. My room was in the
attic: take the lift to the fourth floor then use the stairs up to the
I complained to an Aussie colleague at work and he asked the name of
the hotel so he could avoid it, and it was only as I said "John Howard
Hotel" out loud that I realised the ghastly mistake I had made.
"Mate! You should have realised you were going to be screwed over."
Wednesday morning I checked out. Another day, and then to the Hilton
Euston. There's a lovely hotel, but one I can't generally afford. I
was there to meet Viv and her mum, passing through on their way to
Lausanne and Lake Garda (sp?) for a holiday.
I checked in for both rooms and then set off to meet them. It was a
lovely evening, apart from the disappointment at Stamford Bridge in
equally abominable weather. Dinner at their restaurant, and a
beautiful night in a first floor room overlooking the restaurant. Too
soon, breakfast, a walk through the drizzle to St Pancras and goodbye
as they prepared to board the Eurostar to Paris and I caught the
Metropolitan Line to Liverpool Street.
And now, after two more uneventful days, I'm on the Virgin Pendolino,
a journey of some boredom by now, approaching Stafford by evening sun,
which may well give way to more rain.
Soon, we will hear who is to be London's mayor for the next four
years. It will be significant. As for me, I'd like to see Ken remain
at the helm, but I feel it is more than possible that I will be
disappointed. That is all.