Back from London, and only 240 emails waiting for me at work. What's the matter with you all? Don't you love me? Harrumph.... So, London - what can I say? It was lovely. Travelled up on Friday and stayed at our usual hotel. This is the Radisson Edwardian Sussex just behind Marble Arch/Oxford Street. Fantastic location, and we like it - bedrooms always comfortable, and lovely staff who seem really genuine. Friday night we went over to Cantina at Vinopolis - had a lovely evening there with cousin Alyson, and wobbled back after a delightful time admiring the river and the gherkin. Saturday we engaged in a little retail therapy down Bond Street - we loved Jo Malone but Smythson was a disappointment and the staff were very offhand. Boo hiss, won't spend our money there again. In the afternoon we went to a matinee performance of the Mousetrap, now in its 55th year just next door to the Ivy. Thoroughly enjoyable in a delightfully cosy, non threatening way, performed very competently in a tiny and lovely little theatre which made it very intimate and friendly. I can recommend. In the evening we sped off to Fino on Charlotte Street - or is it? Although the postal address is the actual restaurant entrance is round the corner so always confuses taxi drivers and other visitors. Joined by uncle Warwick where we had a magnificent and splendiferous Spanish feast of tapas, eaten in a leisurely way accompanied by much quaffing of red wine and some serious debate about the possible unity of Catholic and anglican churches and the ordination of women.......... A fantastic evening, again service was wonderful, food delicious and company convivial. Bliss.

Sunday was a little more relaxed. A trip over to the National portrait gallery which was my first time there. I was completely overcome as in the same room was a magnificent picture of one of my heroes, Sir Richard Burton and also a few photos of the expedition of another of my heroes, Captain Scott.. There was something so unbearably moving about seeing the photos of the little hut, crammed to the rafters with branded equipment and food like Bisto or Oxo, and homely things like socks while Scott was busy at his desk, or a picture of Dr Wilson before they set off for their last fatal walk. In some ways the fact that they were photos rather than paintings or drawings made them far more immediate and recent, and of course even more painful and unsettling to see. Also in the same room was a very fine portrait of Lord Baden Powell, lookign very twinkly and avuncular. Seeing Sir Richard though made me think of his dear wife Lady Isabel and I felt very sad there was no accompanying portrait of her. He was an extraordinarily handsome and striking man. When we lived in Herts, I made a pilgrimage to their tomb in the Catholic cemetary in Mortlake, that too was very moving. The tomb is shaped like an Arab tent, and although blocked up now, originally had an enamelled blue ceiling with golden stars and a tinkling camel bell. Wow.

Anyway we emerged to a full flight of Chinese new year celebrations which were lovely. Firecrackers exploded constantly around us in the street, beautiful lanterns swayed from every available lamp post and high place and in Leicester Square they organised a huge firework and firecracker display.

Sunday evening, we had a quiet meal at Zizzi on Wigmore Street. Monday morning returned to St Christophers Place as we had located the Marimekko shop. I have loved these beautiful Finnish textiles for a number of years, so stocked up. As is usual, we fell in love with a wonderful fabric that Andrew suggested would look gorgeous as a wall hanging on the landing, and sure enough they had none left!!

Returning to Oxford Street, stopped to talk to some operatives engaged in cleaning the street surface with a very good piece of kit, the Nilfisk. They have given me the contact details for the company and were very patient with all my questions and photos. Eventually caught the train home Monday afternoon, happily laden with a variety of parcels including the treat of some caviar (about the size of a large teaspoon, but costing a fortune) from Fortnum and Masons, one of my favourite shops in London (along with Liberty of course).