Location, location, location

Last night I watched Location, Location, Location for the first time in about three years. The sexual tension between Kirsty and Phil seems to have escalated further - at one point Mr Spencer kicked Ms Alsop firmly but gently in the shin region, as if to release some of that pent-up frustration.

I could have done with the pair's help a few weeks ago. Having just moved to a flat in north London, which is pretty swish (relatively speaking) on the inside, I've been kept up the past few nights by Baring Street traffic - a road far busier than it was during our 20-minute viewing.

Open House London

Last weekend was Open House in London, meaning that hundreds of buildings across the capital swung their doors open to members of the public.

I found the two days incredibly confusing and frustrating - "No, sorry, the Gherkin isn't part of Open House, even though people said it was" and "No, you can't climb to the top of Tower 42 because you had to pre-book."

Regent's Canal faces

Sawubona! Now I know how to greet people in Zulu. Thanks, Flickr!

These are some people with really big heads who I saw looking at me t'other day as I was cycling along Regent's Canal in London.