So today the tube workers were on strike, demanding a better pay rise than they have been offered. By all accounts it was a very successful strike, too. On previous occasions (the last one was a mere 6 months ago) at least some of the trains kept running on most lines. Today, though, there were none.

Of course, that didn’t stop the guard on my train advising us to change for the Central and Victoria Lines as we rolled into Stratford. That was no doubt for the benefit of the Dutch tourists who would have arrived at Harwich that morning and continued their journey to London by train.

Got to Liverpool Street to find it packed. To have got to the front of the queues for the bus would have taken a good hour, so I picked up one of the route maps they were handing out and set off on foot.

It was quite enjoyable, actually. The sun was out, it was warm. The traffic wasn’t too bad for the most part, considering the lack of tubes. I also followed the map’s recommended route to the West End, which was slightly different to the one I normally use, and got me to the office in a little under an hour.

There were more communal chocolates to be eaten - Clive’s gift from Antwerp - so in spite of the blatant gym-missing that marked the start of the day, I allowed myself one, and the last cookie left over from yesterday to replace the calories lost walking.

That, though, is absolutely the last chocolate I’ll be eating for the next seven days. The last two weeks in that office have been two weeks of pigging out.

The walk home was not nearly as fun. It was dark and busy. Lots of traffic and lots of people. Was also feeling tired after a long day, which didn’t really help. Incoming text message by the half way point warned of line problems on the overground trains, continuing the week’s theme of crap travel.

Came home intending to flop around and do very little, but was tempted by the keyboard and screen and spent most of the evening online.

Hmmm… a too-common occupation.

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