London
Its 7.15am. I'm sitting in an internet cafe in Bloomsbury just round the corner from my hotel. Its snowing outside and my denim jacket is damp from my failed search for an observer. I'm sure I would have found one eventually - this is central London after all - but I got too wet and I found this 24 hour internet shop with a 24 hour Subway next door where I bought a take out coffee (Black with no milk). Its £1 for an hour and seems pretty full. What are all these people doing here at 7.15 on sunday morning? For that matter - what am I doing here. Well I woke up at 5 and couldn't get back to sleep. My room mate is snoring gently and I didn't want to wake him so I came in search of coffee and paper and savouring and extra bit of the London experience.

I feel a bit rough from last night - though on usual performances we were quite civilised. We didn't start drinking till 3.30, we had both lunch (fish and chips) and dinner (Chinese) and were in bed by 11.30. This was because:-
a. We wanted to be in a good state to enjoy the game of a lifetime today
b. Two of our party were fathers in their seventies and we didn't want to make them overdo it.

We even went for the briefest excursion to the British Museum before the pub. It went like this:-
"Lets have a look around the museum"
"Its free"
We walked through the foyer to the new bit where the terracota army are installed.
"£12"
"I'm not paying that"
10 more minutes of wandering arund the foyer.
"I could murder a pint"
"Me too"
"Lets go".
Looking round the snow is getting heavier. I should go back soon - but I have forgotten my room card and will have to wake my room mate up. I may have to put up with the Torygraph which they seem to be giving away at the hotel. I wonder what the crossword's like. No matter - I haven't got a pen.