Dalston Regent’s Canal
Lovely and sunny, but cold.
Train to Waterloo, overcrowded, standing room only. Why only five coaches, why not ten?
No 243 bus to Dalston, only I could not see a 243. Hopped on I think 76 or maybe it was 26. It went to Liverpool Street Station. I then saw I had gone to the wrong bus stop. Why did the driver not tell me?
It took as long to reach Liverpool Street by bus, as train journey into London. One continuous traffic jam.
No 242 to Dalston not a lot better.
I find The Hive, where I was due for a conference. Although I was late, I was one of the first there.
Food laid on for breakfast, raided from skips.
ReSpacing Conference all day.
We are told to recycle. Do we? No. Food is wasted, materials are wasted, even space is wasted, derelict building dot the landscape, green space is destroyed by developers, aided and abetted by corrupt councils.
On my way in, I had noticed what was maybe a coffee bar. Not sure, as it said coffee, then I thought maybe not, outside seating for a pub.
I checked during a break, saw it was a coffee bar, Curio Cabal, popped back later and had a coffee. It was excellent.
Conference was due finish at 5-30. It overran until sometime past six, I did not leave until gone seven. A very interesting conversation with an enlightened property developer.
By now very cold.
No 243, I saw, did indeed go to Waterloo.
But now I wished for Covent Garden.
No 243 skirted Covent Garden. I alighted at Holborn and walked. Had I waited for 242, it would have taken me more or less where I wished to be in Covent Garden.
Pizza at Home Slice, only Home Slice packed.
I had soupe at Wild Food Cafe. Expensive and very noisy.
Back to Home Slice, still a long wait.
Train from Waterloo, gone ten, and yet packed, standing room only.