I realised I'd been to the Mitre before, not surprising as I worked in the area for many years... It's just that all the pubs have blended into one long Friday lunch time in my mind.
Evening went too quickly and I was soon sat on a train that refused to move at Waterloo. Shouting chavs and upper class twits provided entertainment. The upper class twits were rather good and most amusing. They were loudly whispering about their plan to pass off a friend as a member of the aristocracy, and falling over when the train stopped. The best the chavs could manage was shouts of "DOES DIS TRIAN GO TA FEL'AM OR WOT?".
Many thanks to geodhinn for the bottle of Scotch.
I am now waiting for Dr Paul and Adrienne to get here, I plan breakfast in the cafe and they they want to help me pack... Mad fools;-)
In other news
I have two identical digital cameras on the way to me... Now who can guess why I have purchased two? What can the crazy old coot up to now?