Man about town

And so to London this weekend to catch up with some old friends. First, Pimms, cider and rounders in South-East London, combining a house-warming party and birthday party for Naomi, Matt Davis' (henceforth Pocket, short for Pocket Rocket) girlfriend. A few people I know of old there, including Matt Pound, one of my best mates from uni, as indeed is Pocket. Rounders in the park between the showers, a good time had by all once we mixed the teams. Even hit a bases-loaded home run...or rounder, as everyone was keen to point out.

Thence to the Oval, for dinner with Nathalie, at an Eritrean restaurant in South London. Not seen Nat in a while, not since Xmas, and as always it's a pleasure to catch up with old friends. Novel style of cuisine, not one I'd had before - meat and vegetable curries, on the dry side if anything, served on and with an assortment of what I can only describe as a cross between a crumpet and a pancake kind of bread-style arrangement. One tore off pieces of that to make impromptu curry sandwiches...an interesting experience. They say one should try everything once, except incest and folk dancing, after all.

Stayed over at Nat's Saturday night, came home around lunchtime. Somewhat apprehensive about using the Tube, I have to admit, but you just have to carry on with life as usual. Nat and I were the only white people in the restaurant - we wondered whether this was a result of the news that one of the failed bombers of 10 days ago was perhaps of Eritrean nationality? Or, more prosaically, just that the burghers of south London simply prefer a doner with chilli sauce as their post-pub fare. Who knows, but it'd be sad to think it was the former.

Going into Cambridge tomorrow, to have a haircut, gym session and for lunch with the illustrious Tori, late a CIR of Yamaguchi, shortly to become a hotshot Tokyo banker. Time for a pint and a pie by the river, and time also to luxuriate in the sensation of not being a JET any more.