I’m safely ensconced in the leafy environs of SE15. Since early summer I’d been walking from Brixton to the offices in Vauxhall. My route would lead me past:

Naz’s blue hq in Tom’s novel, Remainder, to:

the portuguese boracho boys, to:

the Violette Szabo memorial mural leading on to:

the portuguese restaurants and bars of South Lambeth Road and:

Michael the cobbler with the ever-present fag hanging out of the corner of his mouth,

to the deli on the corner of Fentiman with exclusive seating for two just as, finally,

the sky line of Vauxhall appears around the corner.

It was a walk I learned to love, and one that I felt myself beginning to miss even before I’d passed the British Interplanetary Society for the last time. I’m cycling down Camberwell Road at the moment, which obviously doesn’t lend itself to the same sort of visual wallowing. Hopefully after the madness of Christmas is out of the way I’ll be able to walk the new route occasionally too.