After a short drive across North London this morning, and an act of violence threatened against me by an agitated driver on the number 23 bus that I cut up, the Paddington Hilton is where I met Jonathan.
I do like swanning around in marble-foyered hotels. I've actually managed to stay in the Hilton for free before. It was in Bangkok. I found my room slightly cramped and was puzzled by the bars on my window and the fact that I was expected to wallow in my own filth...
Actually I'd better stop there, before this particular hotel chain decides to sue me. The Bangkok Hilton is of course the nickname given to the notorious Bangkwang Prison in the Thai capital and no, I was never incarcerated there.
I fled the country.
Back to this morning then, and on arrival I tiptoed through the tourists looking for our world class triple jumper, but I'm not very fit and Jonathan is, so I found a chair near the revolving door in the hope that he'd find me.
As that hope was starting to ebb, we eventually caught up with one another by the weeping fig. Jonathan apologised that his prior meeting had overrun and for the fact that he was in a bit of a hurry, but I reassured him that the whole process would take no longer than the duration of an olympic-paced 400 metre race.
A kindly concierge, whose name I didn't catch although he looked like a 'Leonard', took the fine photo you see above, a photo spoiled only by the fact that I'm in it.
Then with a hop and a skip, but no jump, I was away again