Yesterday G and I went to Nottinghill carnival. Got a couple of ciders from Sainsbury and then got the tube.
A simple operation you’d think. boring even. Oh no. We did not prepare for absolute carnage Tottenham Court station. See pic no. 2. We stood and waited for about 5 trains to go by before we were literally shoved on by a swelling crowd. I will never, ever complain about rush hour ever again. That was something else altogether. I didn’t know whose sweat was whose. Then some young guys thought they’d up the anti by singing, ‘the ROOF, the ROOF, the ROOF IS ON FIRE’. 
We finally got out and joined the throng of excited people bursting out of Queenstown station’s seams. The carnival was awesome- upon arrival we stood and watched the parade go past, tried to find Marty, didn’t find Marty, then continued up the road towards the street party. We managed to bump our selves to the front, to be covered in water from a crazy lady with a (water) gun and made some new friends. It felt like Leeds so much I felt a little bit sad, for like half a second, then I was engulfed under a mass of people, sweat and drum ‘n’ bass.
Say hi to our new raver friends, see pic no. 9. V. good looking. Maybe v. young too, whoops.
We left about 7. Two tired teddys made their ways back home. The public transport was a nightmare.
I had a burger for dinner which was delicious. (I say it now and i’ll say it again, this blog is mainly for own benefit to remind myself of what the hell happened each day. And anyways, I like burgers, they should get a mention)
Then all the regular stuff like the brushing of teeth, cuddling of kitty and sleeping followed. Back to work this morning, and the hum of the drum begins again…

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