The Not-so-great Smoke

The day started early. Far too early, in fact, but I knew it would and we were prepared. Bud supplied tea at 0600 and Jof handed me all the pre-packed kit, and sent me off into the fresh dew-laden morning with its traffic fumes and menacing predatory pigeons.

We met at school (I was so efficient I was 7 minutes early), boarded the coach and the whole lot of us travelled slowly to London, for purposes of ART. On the way up, we sang 'I play Pokémon go' non-stop for 73 miles. It got old and tedious by Petersfield, but there's nothing like 90 drunken kids to keep a pointless song going. Apparently the singer (aged 9) has a 16 year-old girlfriend whom he kisses frequently through the course of the music video accompanying the hit record. With my theatrical experience and critical nature, I might very well assume the girlie is just some rent-a-broad hired to increase Youtube hits.

Well, we got to London, the Great Smoke. It was smoky. There was an art gallery but I wasn't allowed my camera so you'll just have to believe me. We saw many pictures, we drew many pictures, there were plinths and columns, it was most tranquil, apart from where us kids were making a noise, which was everywhere.

One of our colleagues was not allowed to go because his mum said there might be terrorists with their bombs. Thus, the boy spent the whole of last week saying don't go to London, for you will be vaporized in a frenzy of self-defeating religious fervour, and some kids had been nightmaring all over the weekend because of it. In the end, I saw many things but no bombs at all. I've seen so many Policepersons with guns by now it's just part of the scenery. Oh look, another Heckler and Koch.

Then it was time to go home. In my professional opinion the London trips I do with Bud are far better as we do 4 different things and still have time for beer on the train but to be fair, we don't have to marshal 90 naughty Norberts through central London and not lose any of them. The coach took a short cut which was a big loop, and I'm not talking the South Circular or the M25. The second time we left the gallery was slightly more successful although the motorway was totally static for ages and we got back very late indeed. During the journey we played steal-Okely-Dokely's-water-bottle for the full 4 hours of the ride apart from when we were all screaming at the carsick girl vomiting into a hat.

Today was my first time walking home on my own and it bodes well for the future that I was an hour and 5 minutes late for this simple task, leaving Flynn sitting on our doorstep and only 7 1/2 minutes for me to have my snack before leaving for a Scout trip.

Milton Locks Nature Reserve is a little-known area of scrub and dead seaweed at the eastern side of the island where in the past, we have found bits of glass worn smooth by the waves. This time a lady of foreign extraction handed us big swishing nets to catch bugs and I got an earwig. Others got crickets and damselflies and we saw a vole but didn't catch it. We made artworks in the pebbles - I made a bird, others made flowers and stuff and it will all be washed away at high tide. I was possibly too tired for naturism and was glad to reacquire the sofa and chocolate supply.