No earth, just sky its so surreal

Saturday saw spindlemere and I launching one of our Ambling Attacks on the nation's capital. I believe we had a vague plan to go to the Museum of London, but got distracted on the way. Instead we saw all manner of interesting other things.

( You went off swinging London )

( The Press Photographer's Year Exhibition @ The National Theatre )

On Sunday, ChrisC and I popped out for a wander round Spitalfields market (with fiercely complicated vegetarian salad wraps for lunch) before I headed home to tackle the ongoing Tidying of the Augean Bedroom. ( Spitalfields obviously knew I was coming )

We paused for a drink on the Barbican's waterside terrace, it was all terribly civilised.

Suddenly, there was a beating of wings overhead, a vague quacking, and London's most incontinent duck strafed the pair of us thoroughly. I'm unsure if this particular duck had some major disorder of the lower intestine, but the result was greenish, utterly foul-smelling and completely pervasive. It's difficult to walk through the Barbican with any degree of dignity when one has duck shite dripping down one's face (and hair, and clothes).

And after I went out of my way to be nice to ducks last week, as well. Ungrateful gits.