Another up at the crack of noon to cracking eggs of the scrambled variety, it was an afternoon watching English movies of the Hugh Grant variety before the Sussex cricketer for dinner. Tom was sweating hard rum and easing his misery with Czech beer…

The following day I visited Brighton’s star attraction, the Royal Pavilion, built by the most despised King, George IV. In the 18th century, Brighton became popular for the upper crust to visit after ‘doctors’ proclaimed the medicinal quality of seawater. One doctor went so far as to create a Seawater brew consisting of crab eyes, viper skin and wood ants. He recommended that patients drink 2 pints a day of the ‘tasty’ brew. But most came to bath in the English Channel. This is what brought the then Prince Regent George to convert the ‘farmhouse’ into the Pavilion in a number of stages.

The ‘palace’ is well worth a visit and it’s amazing that he only enjoyed the completed version twice due to poor health, largely due to his massive 20st size. The designers of the Pavilion did an Oriental theme throughout despite the fact that they had never been to the Orient and thus made two fundamental errors. First is that the dragons found in nearly every room have wings. The Welsh dragons have wings but the Chinese do not. The second was putting snakes and dragons together in the same mural. According to Chinese legend, this is bad luck and the particular room with the dragon and snake motifs has had more than its fair share of bad luck with a fire and caving roof.

At the Pavilion when George did visit, he would put on an evening consisting of fine music by his own 30 piece orchestra and a banquet with over 100 dishes prepared by the finest chef for about 30 guests which would last for 5-6 hours. Despite the status of attending such an event, people wouldn’t always inform George that they were ‘in town’ as he was badly disorganised, quiet often leaving his guests unoccupied whilst he took two hours to get ready.

Everything for George was only the best and he ranks as one of the least like royals due to his excessiveness. An interesting interior design in the Pavilion is the faked doors painted on the walls to give the impression that this already massive ‘palace’ is even larger. To keep this place running, it required 200 servants year round despite the fact that the King was rarely in residence. As common in that era, these servants moved around through corridors between the walls so as not to be seen.

Later that week after a promising agency interview back in London, I went down to St Paul’s Cathedral. What a beautiful structure. Wandering around the crypt, I learned that London held a thanksgiving for George III’s recovery from mania which incorporated holidays, bonfires, displays and commemorative medals and from which celebratory songs and poems were composed. Bet they didn’t do that for his son, George IV; maybe when he died.

Feeling slightly energetic, I climbed up the 530 steps to the Dome, stopping at the Whispering Gallery – not for those afraid of heights – for a bird’s eye view over the nave of the Cathedral before continuing up outside for a fabulous view over London. And what good timing I had. The clouds cleared way for a lovely autumn afternoon. Getting to the top, it wasn’t the number of stairs that was the trouble; it was the spiralling nature of the stairs. Thankfully I was able to unwind myself on the way back down. And to reward myself, I had some nice strawberry Beechdean icecream :)

During the week it was Gethin’s birthday so my excuse to do some baking. With limited equipment (really looking forward to getting home to Mum’s Kenwood Chef), it was my failsafe Sticky Date Pudding with Caramel Sauce. And the boys loved it – scored again. I also had a good evening catching up with Katie from the Turkey gulet cruise in 2003 at the Griffin for a couple of drinks and dinner at Ha Ha.

Trying to locate the building for another agency interview, I discovered London’s street numbering system. Rather than the odds being on one side of the street and evens on the other and ascending in evenly fashion along the street like back home, the numbers here ascend all the way down one side of the street, switch sides and continue ascending back up the other side such that a building on one side could have the number 31 and directly opposite is the number 105.

Afterwards, with another sunny day in London I strolled the streets again, this time starting along New Bond Street and into Old Bond Street which is likened to 6th Avenue in New York and Rodeo Drive in Los Angeles. London is shopper’s galore or nightmare. The streets are lined with millions of shops and on top of this, there are arcade running back from the streets such as the Burlington and Piccadilly with their beautiful (aka expensive) wares on display. You can tell that Christmas is getting close with all the marketing about.

I have been really fortunate with the weather in London. The number of sunny days has been fabulous because sunshine is glorious. It heals the soul, well my soul anyway and add some music and I’m in heaven. My drugs I guess. The only downside is that because it is autumn, I can’t expose my skin which is slowly turning white – aghh.

It was November 11 and I found myself at Westminister Abbey strolling around the Field of Remembrance; so many crosses marking the so many dead including the recent losses in the Iraq conflict. Unfortunately I wasn’t able to go inside that day and continued on walking along the Thames and back up to Covent Garden markets. I didn’t find the gardens but sat down at one of the many uncover ‘outdoor’ cafes and enjoyed the opera singing of one of the many high quality buskers there.

After checking out the great arty craft markets, it was over to Leiscester Square where I discovered a Haagen Dazs restaurant. Ummm… I think I’ll be back here once I get a pay check. Leiscester Square is also where you pick up your half price tickets for the numerous theatre shows so maybe I’ll combine the two. Ummm…

That evening, stepping off the tube, I, along with a couple of others, stopped on the platform (Dollis Hill is above ground) and watched the sky’s colours during a pleasant London sunset. There had been a number of these due to the good weather and it’s interesting to note the different colours to home reminding me of the Turner paintings from school Art that I always remember not looking quite right.

Unfortunately I had some bad fortune at the end of the week with the loss of my Inukshuk charm whilst jogging around Gladstone Park. It was my travelling good luck charm. I guess I don’t need it for the next little while but I will have to source an alternative come the end of December when I start up again with Edinburgh for Hogmanay.

The end of the week was marked with farewells to 117 Dewsbury Road, Dollis Hill and G’day to Matt’s place at 16 Ascham Street, Kentish Town, my home for the next 3 weeks where we celebrated with dinner at an Ethiopian restaurant up the street and round the corner. Now I don’t know about you but I was rather intrigued as to what Ethiopian was and hence was pleasantly surprised with its tasty fare.

It matters not how a man dies but how he lives - Forgotten