I was in London over the weekend for Workshop. Visited Gavin on Saturday evening - he intercepted me on Tooley Road before I got to his flat. Weird feeling, meeting your own flesh and blood in the middle of this dark, howling, urban wilderness. We wandered over to this pub in Bermondsey, sat in an otherwise empty upstairs room with Gavin's studenty friends John and James, with this fantastic view over the river, listening to increasingly improbable drinking stories. Then back to the flat with a Chinese takeaway. Nice flat on Jacob Street, in a sort of 80's conservation area, all yuppy warehouse conversion effect. Nice flat only saved from descending into squalid undergraduate hell by presence of Ruth, Steve's nice girlfriend. At this point the 20-odd years Gavin has got on me started to tell. The boys all went off to the pub again while I deflected a guilt-trip from Gavin's flat-mate Steve about not entertaining me (not your problem Steve, this is between me and my so-called son) before going to bed. In Gavin's bed - allegedly clean sheets but not convinced. Eventually nearby generator stopped, enabling sleep until woken in small hours by sound of retching from bathroom. Ah, they're back, I thought......