Historic drinking Up to London this afternoon, after a little work. I will have to do a little more on the hogsite over the holidays: but it's manageable. Being continually jostled on Oxford Street for a couple of hours wore my Christmas spirit to a tattered rag. Being lurched into by a small, drunken Big Issue seller who proceeded to hurl abuse at me for my rudeness was almost the last straw. Things improved drastically walking down the Strand and Fleet Street, where I went to meet Bob in Ye Old Cheshire Cheese . While I waited for him, I fell into conversation with three young Australians, a girl and two boys. One called Tom had left Manchester two years ago and moved down under. He loves it there. All very cheery, which quickly restored my festive spirit. Bob appeared and we stayed with my new friends for half an hour or so. They were very young and it made me feel quite paternal, especially as the younger lad was not used to drinking very much. Then Bob and I left, to complete ...