I suppose the line between a good idea and a total waste of time can sometimes be quite fine. My grandmother lives in north London and, knowing that my uncle and aunt are currently staying with her, and seeing that it was quite a bright day, this morning I decided to pay them a surprise visit. They are planning to visit us at the weekend, so I thought it would be a good opportunity to make sure all the arrangements are in place.

Perhaps it is testimony to London’s sheer vastness that I rarely go up there. Despite a near enough direct tube line there, it takes over an hour to get to my grandmother’s. But it is christmas, and she keeps asking ŵhen I will visit her. Looking back I should have emailed my uncle first to make sure they were in, but I am me, and I like being spontaneous and quirky.

Of course, the predictable thing happened: they weren’t in. I got to that old front door I know so well, rang the bell, and waited, and waited, but nobody appeared. The cries of surprise and joy I was looking forward to hearing from my grandmother never sounded, and there was little I could do but start the long trip home.

Only, getting back proved far more difficult than getting there. Somehow I lost the way back to the station, kilburn having two or three such places. I became lost, and cursed myself for ever having the idea. Eventually, though, I found my way, but not before getting caught by a couple of vicious showers. Oh well, another misadventure to chalk up to experience, but at least I have seen a little more of this vast, sprawling maelstrom I call home.