Only just caught the 13:07 to Kings Cross from Waterbeach today. Safely ensconced between a glowing expectant mother and a returning visitor from Dorset, time flew in pleasant discourse.
On arrival in the City, made my way into the cavernous depths that are the Underground for the Northen line to Bank and from there to Custom House on the Light Docklands Railway. The last miles of the journey was past once bustling Victoria and East India docks, now the backdrop to part decrepit, part resurgent and newly glistening glass spires that form the melange of social fortune in the East of London.
My destination was the Excel exhibition centre. Mr Dodsworth was not there to meet me as planned but I was compensated by being recognised and greeted by Frau Dana Reggentin-Hassenstein and her sister, represeinting their business, der Pommeraner. Mr Dodsworth and Frau Kabizsch of von Blythen soon joined us and we essayed into the maelstrom of the International Food and Drink Exhibition for a couple of hours.
We soon returned to our hotel which, though showing external regency splendour, displayed an internal dilapidation which was commensurate with its economical price!
With Mr Dodsworth departed back to his estate, the ladies and I adventured upon the streets to find a suitable eating establishment. We finally decided upon a Mexican eatery for our evening repast. The food was ample and acceptable to the palate and the service friendly.
We retired back to the hotel soon after as my German guests had been traveling since the early hours of the morning and were in sore need of rest. Having pulled off the handle to my bathroom but valiantly gaining entry through the use of force, I was distracted by sound of laughter through my open window. Further inspection revealed that 1. My window was not directly out of the building but into a six foot wide shaft and 2. Immediately opposite was the window of the neighbouring room with a view to a flirtation of young Spanish ladies, fortunately still properly attired! I felt duty bound to alert them to the danger of inadvertent indiscretion, and we drew our curtains for a more decorous environment.
The news on the television was still focused on the unfolding tragedy of Japan's catastrophe, with Jon Snow giving a moving and poetic description as he moved though the shattered landscape, lives and deaths. With the world's attention distracted, Colonel Muammar Muhammad al-Gaddafi continues his recapturing of ground from the popular uprising in Libya.
Phoned home at the end of the evening and then settled in for the night.
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