Chapter 1; verses 1 to a million...

What a cool day. Despite the absence of direct sunshine when I sat out on the common/lawn with my Bill Bryson double-book (got as far as Bournemouth in Notes from a Small Island), the trip that started an hour later was much much good.

A good start is a good start. As the long train pulled in to Guildford, I didn't think I'd a hope of finding Ben. BUT, lo and behold, his seat stopped right in front of where I was waiting on the platform. It was all of a trek across the carriage from the slam-door I got in through! Think I disturbed his wee nap, though :)

Thence to Waterloo, slightly delayed, but we found the IMAX after only one non-blunderous wrong turn in the pedestrian subway. Chris, Lady Jane and Eric were duly waiting. After about ten minutes, the Kraevs joined us. We were then approached by a lady of diminutive stature, who after raising her voice to attract out downward attention, gave us forms proclaiming free pairs of tickets, then took the forms off us after she realised we weren't target audience (we weren't coming out of a showing of anything, and thus couldn't provide feedback on stuff the forms were supposed to garner feedback on), claiming she'd something to sort out with her manager. But she hung around the counter in a clearly non-proactive way, so we pissed off for Pizza Express (much more express than the place in Brum where we went after the Big One Alton Towers jaunt). Turns out it was in the same building as Eric's very nice flat.

Once Eric had collected his mate from his flat, we went across to the IMAX. The beauty of today's trip was that we were never more than about 200 yards from where we got off the train, so this talk all of two minutes. We sat about one row from the back, and I can honestly say that watching the Matrix Reloaded on a screen that size is a real treat. The opening titles are especially immersing, as there's much wheeling and careering about of the camera's perspective.

It made marginally more sense the second time around, and I think I enjoyed it more because I knew what twist to expect. Others were similarly minded, which is always reassuring for the sanity.

We retired to Eric's flat, which I think I mentioned was very nice, and went up to the roof garden that I spotted from his living room. It's got such a cool view: the wheel, the Houses of Parliament, the Town Hall (NAMCO to me and you) the Savoy, the Royal Festival Hall and Hayward Gallery (sadly), Westminster Abbey, a nice fountain... I was joking that it was like an idealised panorama of London, even from Erics's living room, where you can't see Big Ben. The only major thing missing is St Paul's. Splendid! (and other old words). I really did feel like one of the beautiful people for a while.

Which brings me temporarily to a message from Mr Bridger. It stated that his missus reckons I should go part-blonde again (this was explained to me on Bridge's birthday, too) and I was very pretty. He was suspicious, I was disturbed. I don't think I've ever been described as pretty before...

Anyway, to return to the night, I think everyone got back alright. I got back to find G&J safe and well with all their gear, and Ben was back about the same time, apparently, despite having to stop at every hole in the hedge between Guildford and Haslemere. Then I got a call from Neil saying he was at the Big One hotel in Leicester for tomorrow's One Big Sunday. I've been invited to come along now (as in within the last hour) but financially I'll have to decline, which is really frustrating, but there's not really any two ways about it, and I've had a lovely time, Mark....