To the studio

So today it was up early - for me. We had to get to Premier Radio's studios near Victoria Station for 11 o'clock. Because I'm slow doing everything, it meant an early breakfast (just weetabix and prunes, because toast takes too long) and then on the road. The jam on the M4 had cleared by the time we reached Reading East, but of course everything snarled up with the bus lane and it was slow going from then on. Why is it that taxi-drivers feel compelled to vent their frustration by honking their horns? To think it was once my ambition to drive a black taxi - when I was seven. Maybe those drivers have the emotional tolerance of 7-year olds. Not that some weren't very considerate. Anyway we reached Vincent Square, and there was a disabled parking space ready and waiting for us, with five minutes to spare to get round the corner to Chapter Street.

Then came the interview. Well, actually a wait came next, a cup of tea and a biscuit. And then Dave and 'B' (Bridgitte) issued forth and ushered us into the studio. I felt I didn't perform well, in that I didn't say what was on my heart and what I did say wasn't well expressed, whereas by contrast Jane was clear and concise. At the end she asked if they were likely to 'voice-over' me. They hedged a bit; so I suspect you may not have the joy of listening to my gravelly, slurred and monotonous tones. I thought to ask when it was going out. B looked it up in the diary. The answer is 3.20 pm on Thursday. Tune in live - or listen again on line.

Meanwhile we emerged into a balmy autumnal afternoon. Pupils of Westminster School (alma mater of my old friend Richard) were emerging from the playing fields in Vincent Square. When we reached Battersea Park, having taken a wrong turn, there was a busful of kindergarten children having their lunchtime break and office workers eating their lunches. Happy days. But we had to head home. Work beckoned. We'd enjoyed our city break. I'd didn't do much work when we got home. Sorry.