Well, we have colour this Sunday but no space. But you have had enough of me in the magazine.

So, where was I? Yes, after the eventful trip to Portugal I stayed for a few days in London with my grandson and his parents. I didn’t do very much as the V & A museum close by only had a Kylie Minogue exhibition, which does not interest me. I caught up with films on video and my son-in-law brought for me to watch Shattered Glass described as ‘the most entertaining movie about journalism since The President’s Men’. I had missed it when it was showing at the local cinemas.

Here is a young journalist who fell from grace when it was found that he had fabricated half his articles. This film is based on the true story of Stephen Glass who did fabricate stories. When interviewed about it the real Glass said: “I wanted them to think I was a good journalist, a good person. I wanted them to love the story so they would love me”. This sort of thing could never happen in a small country like ours because it would be discovered after the first story. We are too small. But spinners who do not report accurately, who write what suits them, and whose stories are biased are here to stay. There will be more of them once the elections come round. Anyway, I enjoyed this film. I so rarely get to see any here.

On the Saturday my young one proposed a visit to Camden Market, where I had last been some three years ago. It was a lovely day so one could people-watch discreetly and look at the ‘alternative’ scene which does not exist at all here. There are Vintage and Retro clothing shops and we went in to several just out of curiosity.

Plenty of shops for Goths too, on the high street and there is even a shop which sells Goth Chocs, some in boxes in the shape of a coffin. There is no end to creativity. I did not purchase any not wanting to tempt fortune.

The food stalls for those who are adventurous represented many countries and people were buying take-away food and sitting and eating it in the sun, on staircases and by the Lock, watching the boats go by at a leisurely pace. We decided to go indoors to eat. Unhappily it was not a good choice and the food was not very good but I wasn’t convinced that all that food outdoors would not make one of us ill and I wasn’t prepared to spend the few days holiday I had left walking in and out of the bathroom.

After lunch my young one said: “I must take you somewhere you absolutely must see.” And in we went to Cyberdog. This is a large shop which used to double up as a dance floor and we went in to the UV, circuit patterned, be-tubed, foam padded, light reflective, complex cyber design that is the interior of the shop. Incredible clothes too and nothing that I had ever seen before. Very unusual, all that apple green and neon pink, holographic T-shirts, multi-zippered stretch tops. What an experience and I didn’t even feel out of place in a grey coat and heels.

London is hideously expensive and I am thankful that I do not have to pay a hotel bill. I don’t think I would bother to go if I did. The tube and everything else are expensive enough. So, time to return but Air Malta kept us waiting for at almost two hours without telling us what was happening. They should keep travellers who choose to fly with them au courant and not ignore them in that way. That’s bad customer care.

Back home, I was happy to find that on the balcony my coriander was thriving as was my parsley. That was the fourth packet of coriander I had planted this year and at last I was successful.