Bob and the river

Little deathless prose and poetry produced today, although I had a fruitful chat with a magazine publisher Mex had kindly put me in touch with.

Went into town late this afternoon to meet up with Bob. Had a jolly evening discussing among other things the imagined attractiveness to ladies of the more mature gentlemen (such as ourselves) and - at some length - religion.

During the course of this we went for a walk along the Thames, which was looking particularly beautiful and popped into a Doggets where I played several games of pool with the old Mad dog, poking the butts of our cues into the elbows of disgruntled drinkers.

Then across the river to Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese, where we sat in the small dark bar near an open fire. This is a fine pub and one of my all time favourites and with its dark wood panels and old paintings a place for confidential lurking. Then to The Temple Bar for a curry before zooming home listening to an audiobook.

Below two views of the river. Looking across at St Paul's, and the South Bank. I quite like the way that the slight blurriness provides a painterly quality.