I have a confession to make. I have never been further south on the Northern line than Kennington, and I live in Kennington. South London is a closed book to me, despite living south of the river* for almost two years. I am a North Londoner in exile. I will shortly be breaking new ground for me (and for North Londoners everywhere, I suspect) and heading south on the Northern line, as far south as you can go without actually ending up in Mordor. Sorry, Morden. South Wimbledon, to be precise. To attend what is either a party given by somebody I have never met, or the most elaborate white slaving operation in the history of the internet.
If I’m not back blogging by Monday, I’ve either been kidnapped, or fallen off the edge of the world.
* But – to steal a phrase – within sprinting distance of a bridge.