A splendid weekend of London contrasts, going to exhibitions (Pop Art at the NPG), panoramic cocktail bars, Regent's Park, Pedro Almodavr's exemplary All About My Mother at the Old Vic and catching up with London buds celebrating babies and weddings and houses. Living close to a city that regards a cavernous shopping centre resembling a down-at-heel duty free but with less shops (St Stephens) as a major attraction, going to London, even if just for a couple of days shows how far Hull has still got to travel. We went past an estate agent which doubles as a bar, so you can take away the attendant pressure of buying a house by getting rat-arsed, and waking up in a ditch with six mortgages. Go into any Hull estate agents with a beer and it's a breach of the peace. Right there and then. A sports shop in the smoke is so keen to take your cash that it provides a treadmill to test out running shoes. And will also let you road-test them around the block. Like that's gunna happen!! We also went past a shop with a stuffed polar bear, which would be great at parties, on rollerskates.
The surrealight was found at Doncaster railway station waiting for a Cleethorpes train (as y'do). We ended up sat next to a crazy old man the colour of bad memories. He offered forward a mangled bar of chocolate. In my face. In the waiting room. "Turn the wrapper down", he said. I assumed he was objecting to the loudness of my crisps (McCoys crinklecrunch). Getting agitated, he repeated his protest, although this time I thought he said "Turn the wrapper round". Confused and bedraggled, I thought the nutter wanted to see the front of my crisp packet, as it was so shiny and aspirational. At the point of turning the crisproduct McCoy way-on, he shouted at the top of his voice "DOOOOOO ITTTTT" and we ran. We later surmised he may have been from the east of Rotherham villages and was saying "tear my wrapper down". Freaky manky chocolate induced waiting room rage. In Doncaster. These things only seem to happen to me.
Watching: All About My Mother; wayward freaks
Drinking: Mojitos in Skylon, overlooking the Thames on the south bank
Listening: 10 Years Of Trunk Records