Woke up as dad went out for a newspaper. Just gone eight, I think, but it felt rediculously early after last night. I pulled myself up from the settee where I’m sleeping during his stay, and did my best to look like I knew what was going on by the time he arrived back. Not easy.

I toasted us some bagels for breakfast (first time dad had had one) while we listened to ITN on the digital radio, and then Classic FM. It’s very clear, but I’m not sure I’d be able to distinguish between it and regular FM.

We were heading out for lunch with Sal, and perhaps not entirely surprisingly we were late leaving, picked up Paul at 11.50 rather than half past then promptly got stuck in traffic all the way to the Dartford Crossing. Paul called to let her know we would be late, but in the end we made it on time. Not bad considering I’d never been to her house before.

She gave us a quick tour (not difficult in a small flat), and we wandered to the bottom of the garden and back, then headed out to Blackheath for lunch. The pubs were heaving, but we eventually found one overlooking the heath where they were serving food and we were able to shelter from the bitter cold.

We ate slowly and had several drinks, and by the time we left it was gone three. We got back in Sal’s car and headed out to Greenwich Market, which was equally cold, but happily free of the steady wind.

It was very interesting. Lots of little stalls selling hand made goods. A huge olive stall, fresh bread and pies, and another stall selling bird-eating spiders and beetles as big as your fist carefully pinned down under deep glass frames. There were a few things I was tempted to buy, and I found a present for someone, but apart from that left empty-handed, and we headed back to Sal’s to warm up with tea, fruit pies and biscuits from one of my hampers.

I had a go at fixing the modem on her laptop, but it was missing some drivers so she couldn’t connect to the net, and we watched bad TV, and a particularly dire Top of the Pops 2, which seemed to have been edited together simply to provide a showcase of the worst songs ever recorded.

We left at just gone seven, bringing Oscar with us for his Christmas visit. I was exhaused when we got home, and flopped down in the lounge in front of Elizabeth, ticking off the minutes until I could go to bed.

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