Stupidly early start from Paris this morning. Planned, I think, to make parting easier. Side note, I've watched season one of the Wire and Sons of Anarchy on the bus during this tour, must get more of both.

Properly sad as border control stamped my passport at Calais. We saw the colapsed cliff face at Dover as we landed. Looks to be only a kilometer or two up the coast from the port. It made the news when it happened while we were away so it mustn't happen that often. Properly scary for everything else built at the foot of the cliffs.

We got into London in the early afternoon. You could film a christmas special for the Young Ones in our hotel room. Stained carpet, rickety cheap old furniture. But great location, service and wifi. Plus if you lie on Trip Adviser and tell everyone its great they give you a free fruit basket, explains how we got tricked into staying here :)

Some washing, shopping on the high street and I was off to meet Rob Wynn-Jones while the family took an evening to decompress. So the Tube. No idea. Literally couldn't work it out without Gab. Ended up going the wrong direction, epiphany - I'll use google to make sense of these stupid maps. No vodafone service anywhere. They've beaten the gypsy pickpocket warning into me so hard for the past two weeks, I'm afraid to ask for directions lest they work out I'm a newbie.

I eventually worked it out and made my way to Holborn to meet Rob, an hour late. I see the back of Rob's head at the end of the bar, suddenly commotion, this 20 something blonde has colapsed in front of him. Christ, this guy is hanging out with pretty little things that are hammered by 6 in the afternoon? Funny that I didn't put it past him, but she wasn't with him.

Awesome night catchng up, we hung out in a few of his locals for most of the night, tremendous atmosphere, conversation and drinks. No kidding - Sambucca. I thought there was an age limit to this stuff, but Rob proved me wrong, they will sell it to 40 year olds. Awesome night - thanks mate.

I woke up still tired and emotional from the night before, the rest of the faily was all ready to get cracking. We met Rob at Westminster pier for a sighseeing afternoon. Along the river, fantastic weather, cruise and commentary. Loads of memorable lines but the winner: "This area is famous for the houses of negotiable affection" - I laughed so hard I choked on my Irn-Bru :)

We took a tour around the Tower. Forever I thought the Tower was one of the turrets on the Tower Bridge. I don't know much, but I still know more of English history than I do of the Italian and French I've been trying to comprehend for the past two weeks. The tour is full of names, events you know from your childhood. Here is where Guy Falkes was questioned, here where the two child princes were murdered, a bunch of Henry's wives beheaded and it goes on. All of us were capitvated for the whole tour.

We're admiring the beefeaters near the entrance to the Crown Jewels exhibition. On the parade ground a squad of the guard march up, stop dead in front of Max, he is concrete, even I'm too stuned to run over and pull him out of the way. They receive their orders, all at 90db, and march off. Max is still bolt still with all this a meter away from him. They turn face him and march straight towards him. He doesn't move. They reform into single file as they pass him to avoid bowling him over, priceless!

There is unfathomable wealth tied up in those crown jewels. I won't try to describe them, just a room full of poeple with permanent dropepd jaws as they walk along. Hardly anyone speaks - what would you say? Emerson is perched on Rob's shoulders, leans down as says "look at that one, it has a disco ball on the top" :)

Over to the Tower Bridge itself before heading to St Pauls cathederal. The scale is just as silly as many of the European ones we've visited this month. We took in an organ recital while we were there. You take the majesty of these places right throughout europe, the scale. Add the imagery we've seen in the religious art in the Louvre and the Vatican, use that organ music as a back track - and you understand why Dawkins has his work cut out for him.

We cabbed it up to Trafalgar square. Still not use to being surrounded by places you've heard all your life - this time it's Fleet St. At the Square the kids burnt off some energy climbing all over the lions at the foot of Nelson's column. Along Whitehall we made it to Number Ten just as three excited police turned up with automatic assult rifles and blaring sirens to rush through the gates of Downing street and deal with something. Nothing on the news tonight about it, I'm guessing someone burnt some toast.

Again with her sixth sense for trains, Gab puts us on what I'm convinced is the wrong way around the Circle line in the tube. Of course she's right and we're back in Bayswater in time for a Chinese and stroll home.

Awesome time last night and fantastic day in the sun today with Rob and the family. Gab and the kids are in an MSG induced coma behind me, time to join them.