What a slack blogger I’ve become in my “vacation” month. Anecdotes, photos, experiences, sights and sounds and smells are piling up one on top of each other like pages from those free newspapers that litter the Underground daily; yet I have failed to gather them up and post them in a digestible fashion. Very remiss of me.

I use the term “vacation” loosely for a few reasons. One is because I have a sneaking suspicion that I’ve lost the ability to have an absolute break from work and the computer, which is a bit sad and hopefully wrong. The other is because I’ve had several business-related meetings while I’ve been in London (more soon when I have news to report).

Today I had a very enjoyable lunch with Andrew, a former Freehills colleague and fellow book publishing “refugee” who now works in London. He took me to one of the city’s oldest pubs – rebuilt hastily in 1667 immediately after being destroyed in the Great Fire, as any great city must have its priorities right – for nothing less than bangers and mash. By crikey, they were perfect.