Anyway, to the weekend.
Friday, as my avid reader will know was pretty much a write-off as I spent it in bed and sweating (very much not in a good way) and except for perhaps an hour of fussball slept through until 10am on Saturday morning. Fortunately I was much better when I woke up and had only a small lead balloon in my abdomen rather than the zeppelin of Thursday night. I had two choices - take it easy and relax or go clubbing in London.
Of course I did the latter.
This was a reasonably-good idea. Thanks to
Sunday started rather late but had food, a little more fussball, then a horrendously long, tedious, noisy, unpleasant couple of hours. Yes - I was on a Virgin Train.
And collapse. After Doctor Who - which was a bit dull I thought.