Weekend descending
I had a fine time the latter half of last week, paying host to my friends Trish and Keith from back home. We went out drinking on Wednesday (met thebopkids, and friedslice among others), went to proper culture IE Anthony and Cleopatra with Patrick Stewart on the Thursday, then out to Poptmism on the Friday, where a lot of fun was had. New-friends loved home-friends, home-friends loved new-friends, all was well.
Then on Saturday, after waiting too long for Trish's brother to whisk them away, I cycled up! and up! and up! to Burnt Oak to join the tubewalkers on their jaunt to Collindale. The trip there involved a great disused raised railway which is basically a slit of park trail all the way from Finsbury Park out past Crouch Hill. A lovely walk, though a bumpy cycle. After that, I got lost on the way, and now own a grown-up A-Z along with my usual mini. The walk was lovely, pictures to follow, including a broken down hospital that backed onto an Centre for Infections (did I mention that Trish left behind the excellent World War Z when she left?), then on to Oriental City for some stir-fry food.
Then back South (the railway being made considerably more exciting in the dark), to a party in Emma's house, one of those lovely affairs with all the right people, darling. We settled down to watch The Tall Guy (the purpose of the evening), and I started to feel a little gassy, probably from drinking too much water too quickly after the ride. Then a little worse, then a lot worse, then throwing up all the stirfry in the toilet, and sadly heading for home (the party by all accounts went from strength to strength), and having a miserable evening/night, trouble from above and below, so to speak. Also I don't know whether it was the railway riding or just being hunched over the toilet, but my back was killing me all night, which obviously wasn't what I wanted. Sunday was spent sitting around, drinking water or my sister's recommendation of flat 7-up, eating crisps, Monday much the same (though I did get a diverting text message from ruudboy asking if I knew why the pavement outside work had blown up). Today I was well enough to head into work, but still no real appetite, so tbh I just stared around light-headed for a lot of it. Tomorrow should be better, one would hope.
Silver lining: for reasons that the non-squeamish can probably put together by themselves, I have an exciting if temporary realignment in my facial hair.
