So, the last breakfast show featurette. No more getting up, showered and dressed in time to be sitting by the ISDN on a Thursday morning, sipping tea and waiting for it to chirp. No more chats with Robin at the other end of the line, waiting for Sandy and Phil (or Simon and Petrie as it was before that (of Simon and Sandy before that)). Also, fortunately, no more setting nine alarms to make sure I’m awake for it (and switching off my answerphone so that if I sleep through and they call me at least there’s some hope the phone will wake me).

Went out on a good one, though - the best for a while, I think. A dead easy subject, nice and chatty, well explained. Good back-and-forth with Sandy and Phil, all neatly wrapped up in time for the news, and for me to dash out into the cold and onto a train that sat motionless outside an evacuated Liverpool Street.

I wasn’t sure how I’d feel about tonight’s show. I thought it might be quite emotional but when it came to it I think what struck me most wasn’t the fact it was the final show, but that it marked the end of two years of my life. I can remember very plainly the first words I spoke on the first show back in October 2000 (’Nik over here, Gordon over there. Welcome to The Lab.’) as clearly as if it was last week. I even remember laying on the beach the week before it started (the week it was supposed to start, but in the end it was delayed because I was on holiday) wondering whether we’d be able to sustain two hours of talk between us every week.

I don’t remember us actually being nervous at all for the first one, although I guess we must have been. I’d only done music radio before that so it was a big change - and a London station. I do remember, though, the rule about not being allowed to say goodbye at the end of each show, or mention when we were going into the news or an ad break. It was about three or four months until we were finally allowed to say goodbye one night, which is when I said ‘Goodnight Gordon’, he replied ‘Goodnight Nik’ and it’s stuck as our closer ever since.

So anyway, tonight we said it for the last time, after two great fun hours. Will brought in Champagne, and we all crowded into the studio - Gordon, me, Steve, James, Roger and Will - to celebrate the end of the show as we listened to the cock-ups collection we’d saved for the last eight minutes.

Then everyone kind of dashed off, leaving us in the empty, silent studio. Very strange feeling. I know I’ll be back on Sunday for London This Week, but it definately felt like something had come to a close.

We tidied up then mooched over to the pub with Roger and Will. There was some kind of party going on in a back room, so we had most of the front to ourselves. Perched on the bar stools, we dissected the last two years of shows before the conversation wandered.

So, I’ve got my Thursdays back. A whole week of coming home at semi-regular times to look forward to for the forseeable future. At the same time, though, I’d gladly give them up again for another two years of the same.

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