Day 72 (25 July 2011) - 'Millions of people swarming like flies...

...round Waterloo underground.  But Helen and Fordy cross over the river, where they can be safe and sound'

Bit of poetic license there, however all quite relevant, as will become clear.  But first, my last post appears to have created quite a stir - typical eh?!  I spend weeks writing about deep, philosophical topics (and Brian Blessed) to very little reaction.  The moment I bring sex into it, coupled with a bit of personal humiliation and everyone's all over it like a tramp on chips.  Good job I love you all, isn't it!  Incidentally, ran into 'said person' yesterday...I never learn do I?  There were probably several things I could have or should have said to restore some pride or even win a crack at Round 2.  Instead, off I went again 'I've just blogged about you'  Utter, utter twat! 

But on to the subject of today's post.  Ladies and Gentlemen I give you the continuation of Task 15 - 'Be a tourist in London' (Helen), and - you're in for a treat here - special guest starring the lady herself, who flew in from Portugal especially!  Well, that last bit might not be strictly true, but suffice to say 'The G' joined me for a splendid day out around our spectacular capital city that I am proud to call my home.  Like a modern day Rock Hudson and Doris Day, Paul Daniels and Debbie McGee or Hinge and Bracket, last Saturday saw us don our best dodgy foreign accents, grab our cameras and head out to explore Laaaandon town.

Like all good tourists we had painstakingly planned our day to ensure we made the most of our limited time.  Our packed itinerary consisted of arriving into Waterloo Station, where we would promenade along South Bank, stopping occasionally to cool down with a fresh glass of Chablis (who am I kidding?) and admire it's general quirkiness, before sampling the fine delicacies of Borough Market and have a spot of lunch, then spend the afternoon running around London like Japanese tourists on speed to pack in as many sights as we could. Oh yes, this was going to be a day of gentle and genteel sophistication.  Like a white Barack and Michelle Obama on a state visit.

But, how foolish we were, for this is the UK in July, which can only mean one thing.  It absolutely pissed down.  We're not talking a mere shower, on no, this was practically Armageddon weather.  If I ever catch that old bint who just a week before hand sat next to me on the 265 moaning about the drought, she'll feel the back of my hand.  So instead, we scampered along South Bank, like two retarded Kelly Holmes' so by the time we reached Borough Market I looked as though I hadn't made it home from a bender three nights previous.

Now for the uninitiated, Borough Market is London's equivalent of the Emperor's New Clothes.  Yes, it has some lovely food, yes it's colourful, but for goodness sake people, it's only a bunch of fruit and veg and some overpriced bread covered in ruddy seeds.  Anyone would think there was war on, such was the clamour for exotic ne'er seen items such as tomatoes and apples!   For all the fuss people make about it, I'd expected to be able to buy the hair of a unicorn or a section of the Bayeux Tapestry.  £2.50 for a chocolate brownie.  £2.50!!!  'But all our ingredients are organic and locally sourced, sir'.  Yes, what that means is that there's a greater chance of listeria and they the chocolate was a bar of Galaxy sourced from Tesco round the corner! However, so as not to appear too curmudgeonly, it does have a certain rustic charm and, on the plus side, we did manage to procure both a nice glass of wine and  the following photo, which appealed to my juvenile sense of humour:

Given the ongoing torrential rain and general footwear crises - my trainer had a previously undiscovered small hole, whilst G's ballet pumps had rotted to her feet - we decided to skip the walking tour and decided to take the bus.  Yes, Ladies and Gentlemen, as we are now nearer 40 than 30 we have reached that age where a bus tour is a source of excitement - I am turning into my Mother!  But that was nothing compared to our sheer glee at the prospect of a further bonus...

...the free pac-a-mac.  £27 for a bus tour may seem expensive to you, but the delight of the free pac-a-mac made it seem a veritable snip in our minds.  Look at the joy we felt:

So like a couple of geriatrics we spent the next three hours on the red route, accompanied firstly by guide Rob and latterly by guide Emma; they swap over in Pimlico, don't you know, which in Rob's case was a good job for after eight years in the job we were honoured to be on the bus for what he described as 'one of the most exciting and eventful' days he'd EVER had!  This frenzy of excitement stemmed from the following three events, all of which we were lucky enough to witness:

• Roadworks on Waterloo Bridge
• The bus running out of pac-a-macs
• An American being caught drinking a can of lager on the top deck

...Not sure I'd have the stamina to deal with Rob's crazy life!

Anyway, we had a wonderful time and saw amongst other things:  The London Eye, House of Parliament, St Paul's Cathedral, Westminster Abbey, Big Ben, Buckingham Palace, Piccadilly Circus, Trafalgar Square, some nuns, at least one domestic and an old man having a wee. London really is splendid!

After all that gallivanting, and another couple of glasses of wine, we headed home for a traditional G & Craig evening (that could almost be H & Claire, couldn't it?!), namely lots more wine and a dance round the kitchen.  In homage to The G, here are the five songs which most remind me of her:

1. Jamiroquai - Little L
2. Mary J Blige - Family Affair (she made me leave a club we'd spent two hours travelling to, after just 30 minutes when this song came on as 'they can't top this'!)
3. Kylie Minogue - Love at First Sight
4. Sophie Ellis Bextor - Murder on the Dancefloor (complete with obligatory foot-stamping)
5. Steps - After the love has gone

 All in all, a lovely day, a reminder that London is the centre of the universe and, of course, that The G is a friend and person of truly legendary proportions