So I left London, feeling I'd been there weeks and not seen a zillionth of it, though I'd only been there a few days and already seen so much. Meeting up with Sophie was wonderful after so long, and the bus ride allowed us to catch up on a little of the three or so years worth of news. Her friend, Olivia came as well, and it was great to meet her. We stayed with Sophie's cousin Jess and her husband Dave, who were warm and welcoming, and didn't protest at the crowd that overtook their living room. Also, they live in a church, which I thought pretty damn cool.

Our first night there, they had a themed house warming party - Ireland and New Zealand, so we scoured the many op shops (Bristol is teeming with them), and came up with the original idea of a black, white and grey sheep for Soph, Olivia and I. NZ=sheep, right? Obviously. They also took us, the next morning to a breakfast party for a Miss Elizabeth Bennett. So I had tea at Elizabeth Bennett's house and felt very English indeed. No Mr Darcy appeared though.

Bristol was all grey. Etoliated skies hanging washboard-thin against grey buildings and greyer paths. But grey is a pretty nice colour when you let it be, and so it took on the most amazing intonations for this excited tourist. We saw some Banksy works and so walked a small portion of the trail of his art around the city. I didnt know who Banksy was before, but the exclamations from Soph and Olivia told me that he was someone of importance, so I can say I saw some original Banksy works on the streets of Bristol and pretend to have intentioned it that way. Bristol is Wallace and Gromit, Skins, and so very much more. We seemed to be leaving it alot, to see other, nearby places, but we still saw a little; enough to know that one day I'll wander back there for more...