It was a busy day in the office but GF managed to get away at a sensible time. The Bakerloo Line dived below the Thames and carried him north and west to Kilburn Park. The hotel was only a five minute walk and the reception staff seemed pleased to greet him. As he checked in he asked about breakfast - this was apparently an extra £16 per ight so he decided that as he had not recently won the lottery it was poor value for money and he would forego the delights of the Marriott's restaurant. The persistent receptionist said that he would throw in WiFi access on top of breakfast for £30. Again the Gorse Fox respectfully declined.

Having dropped his bags in the room he phoned the Silver Vixen to check on what was going on in Sussex. She's had a successful day and enjoyed her first meeting of the coven at their new location.

He headed back out the room and made his way to a nearby Indian Restaurant. When he arrived at Meghani one table was already occupied but the restaurant was othewise empty. He settled down in the corner and ordered a mixture of dishes whilst watching the world pass by. Sitting at the other table were four haircuts that haven't been seen in England since 1973. He became aware of the chatter and realised that the other diners were English and Italian and kept switching back and forth between the two languages. "Last time we wer here Gianni was so drunk he ordered loads of dishes for us and then got up and went home leaving us to eat it all and pay the bill". (Evidently they know how to enjoy themselves).

An elderly lady, obviously a regular, walked in and on being greeted explained that she had had a dreadful day and they were lucky she was there. Her young companion arrived and before his coat had been removed she had thrust a sheet of paper into his hands and bemoaned here dreadful day. As the conversation emerged it was clear that she had been trying to learn a piece of music - and failed. He muttered words of comfort and explained that he waited "until I can feel the melody in every sinew of my being". A fleeting urge to slap was quickly suppressed. Obviously they live right on the edge this close to St John's Wood!

Further diners arrived and before long all but one of the tables was occupied. A foursome arrived and were shown the table next to the Gorse Fox. They sat and began to chat - in French. The restarant was full. It was good, and it was obviously cosmopolitan. The Gorse Fox commented as paid the bill, but the proprietor explained it was like that every night.

The Gorse Fox headed back to the hotel. How can a hotel not have free WiFi in the rooms in this day and age? and how can there not be a shaver socket in the bathroom (for electric toothbrush charger)?