More writing all day (it’s getting boring stating the bleedin’ obvious, but that is what a wine writer is supposed to do.)
In the afternoon I phone up my unnaturally pleasant, competent solicitor who tells me that nothing has gone wrong with my house move and she is sending out the contract this weekend.
Bloody hell…this is getting serious.
After an intense day, I head into London to meet up with Bognor Regis’s biggest (and only?) fan, Pip and his coterie of old Uni-friends. It is once in a blue moon that I go out for “beers with the lads” these days, and it is a pleasure to do so. I meet a potential designer for the book…I like the idea of mates chipping in rather than a soulless professional job. Pips mates, who all happen to be from India, seem to be halfway to Pissville even before I arrive at the pub, but are sufficiently compos mentus to take us to a sublime Indian restaurant near Holborn, Salaam-Namaste (www.salaam-namaste.co.uk). You cannot beat authentic Indian cuisine (most dishes here from the north of the country) and my fiery taste buds are satiated.
I miss the last fast train home and so my key does not enter the lock until 1.30a.m., but the beer and the food has been worth it.