For all that I probably
look like an old man on his death bed when using the thing, my CPAP
machine does help me sleep. After three nights without it (and
three nights of very little sleep) I was out like a light last
night.
I was up rather earlier
than I might have been this morning. Last night I'd made geo-plans
for my trip to London today, and I realised I might sneak in a cheeky
Wherigo (it's a geo-thing) so I got up early and had a
Wheri-download.
I set off to the station
with plenty of time to catch the 6.20am train to London. Had the chap
on the ticket office not been quite so disinterested I would have got
that train. As it was I missed it with seconds to spare. The platform
staff didn't actually laugh out loud. Neither did they actually say
"tough luck baldy-fat-face" but their attitude made
doing either unneccessary.
Consequently I got to
London half an hour later than planned. I had intended to do a little
geocaching around Trafalgar Square before making my way to where I
was actually supposed to be today; but being late put the kibosh on
that idea. Instead I walked up Tottenham Court Road to look for a
geocache near a branch of McDonalds. The clue explained exactly where
it was supposed to be; as I surrupticiously rummaged a tramp loudly
announced "it aint there; I threw it away" and then
demanded the price of a cup of tea from me. I told him if he'd put it
back I'd stand him a full English breakfast. I walked away as he then
started an argument with the voices in his head.
I then failed to find
another cache supposedly near the Eisenhower centre, and decided
geocaching was a silly hobby and (in a sulky mood) went off
for the main business of the day.
I was In London for a
course at the University of Westminster about the microscopic
examination and identification of blood-bourne parasites. It's a
subject about which I've never claimed to be expert. I can
confidently recocgnise the presence or absence of the things, and I
got a lot out of the day. I'm not sure others did. The girl sitting
next to me in the practical session was grumbling that what she was
seeing down the microscope was shaking. She was genuinely surprised
when I pointed out that everyone's microscopes were shaking because
she was rythmically bashing the bench in tune to the strange music in
her head.
Another woman was
employing a novel way to identify blood-bourne parasites. Rather
than attempting to recognise salient features and elicidate a
clinical history, she was making moral judgements. Apparently it
stood to reason that God wouldn't allow humanitarian aid workers to
contract malaria (!) and she got quite irate with the lecturer
who dared to say it happened on a regular basis.
We finished shortly after
4pm; I then went on a little wander round London on my planned
geo-mission. In complete contrast to my utter failure this morning I
had a successful session in which I found caches of six different
types; ending with a geo-meet at Picadilly Circus.
Some Belgian cachers had
arranged a little meet-up; there was only a dozen of us there but it
was quite the international affair. There were only three British
cachers there. There were Belgian, German and even a Finnish lady.
One German lady asked how far Ashford was from London as she'd heard
there were lots of very good Wherigos there. Oh how smug I became.
By now I was beginning to
wilt. I said my goodbyes to my new-found friends and came home to
find a certain dog had fallen into the garden pond.
Oh - and the New Horizons
space probe flew
past the planet Pluto today.
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