Eastenders are we

This is me.

This is, on the other hand, Jane.

This is food and beer being consumed by me in front of a camera held by the aforementioned jane.

This is what it obviously is.

This kid has caught the same bug as the dolphin.

This was great

Blow-out

Filigreeable

Iranian Concordes are apparently on order

London

London

Museum of Natural History treat

Jane's little man

My pick

He seems so lifeless in person

These guys were great

Okay. Let's get into this. The last three days have been at least as big as the thirty before it.

We launched towards the West End with the intention of having a slightly less intense day than the previous two. Jane led us to the Victoria and Albert Museum, which is like our Powerhouse Museum, and we were swamped by detail and wonders.

It's all too much. The treasures, the grandeur, the history, the quality and its quantity. Too much for a couple of Australians who struggle with anything more than a Footy Show retrospective. It doesn't take long to realise that one is acutely unprepared.

We also sampled a lot of the fancy department stores in Mayfair. They were spectacularly well done, shiny, sorted and spensive. It was fun to look at the food hall in Harrod's. It was huge and hunger-inducing. There were some flats across the road with Aston Martins parked outside... had me thinking of how to spend a Lotto win.

Jane headed off to the East End for a rest while I wandered through Hyde Park and tried to prove to myself that I could make it home alone without a phone.

I did indeed manage to make all the right underground connections but headed the wrong way from the station, by a mile, before finally getting back to the apartment.

Jane was surprised to see me arrive back alive and we then managed to have a few beers and some duck and parsnip at the pub over the road.

That's what I remember of today.

I forgot to tell you that I nearly got barrelled by a motorcycle yesterday. He nearly locked up his front tyre, trying to avoid complicating our collective day, after I stepped out in front of him. He rolled his eyes and thanked his particular deity and I apologised. It was very close. I had my hand on the fairing ready to absorb the impact. It was close.

Did I mention the fact that there are an enormous number of lane-splitting motorbikes in London?

Very easy to forget.

Paris tomorrow. An hour and a half on the train. Amazing.

We are booked into a flat near Notre Dame and we are keen. Keen to relax.

See you there?