It's my day off. Sha la la la la and so on and so forth...there's only one thing to do when you live in New Romney, Kent and you're given a day off - get to London as fast as you can. No offense to New Romney or its little train, I just need to see those big red buses every now and again. London is one of the major reasons I came home from Mexico, and my diversion to the coast of Kent only makes the heart grow fonder (and a bit frustrated at not being able to get a mocha after 5pm).

So, this blog will be moving away from the world of work, and focus more on London. And, you know, not working.

One of my favourite things to do in London is to wander. Sorry, I know that’s not going to bring in money to any London businesses, but it’s just true.

I used to get the tube everywhere until I realized how close together everything is, that I could walk to Leicester Square from Waterloo without having to locate my Oyster Card in the bottomless pit of the bag my sister bought me on Oxford Street.

Ok, I have to be honest, I’m not alone on that walk. Even if I’m not strolling along the riverbank arm-in-arm with some poor sucker, on a thriving London day it’s hard to be alone. I’m strolling along arm-in-arm with the city itself. London is a character in peoples’ lives – often merely a supporting character, but one that remains ever-crucial to the winding plot-line.

Please get out there and just walk. Put down the guide book for one day and just wander; it’s all about instinct. (Ok, the signs do help, but pretend it’s instinct...“I think the river is, um...this way!”) If you’re on Charing Cross Road or the Embankment, you should be lucky enough to pass the award-winning Caffe Vergnano, in which case I strongly urge you to either stop for some of the best coffee you’ll ever have or a hot chocolate so thick it’s like someone melted a bar of the stuff – or take one to go and continue your walk with the most fashionable accessory you can purchase on London’s streets, the coffee-to-go cup.

Once you get to the Embankment, glance up at the bridge and smile to yourself at the long line of red buses, and know that if anyone in the world were teleported to this exact spot they’d at least have the comfort of realizing straight away where in the world they are (although it would still be quite disconcerting, I admit – a red bus would comfort me but I couldn’t say the same for a poor Cambodian child afflicted by my made-up random teleportation syndrome...I just pray to God it never happens to him).

Walking in London is not only a fun and contemplative experience, but it beats public transport hands-down as a way to get around. In fact, I can say from personal experience that no one is more “smug in the city” than the pedestrian during a demonstration. The roads have been blocked off, traffic is at an absolute standstill, and pedestrians city wide think, “Yes! This is our time to shine!” It’s a fantastically comedic display - they stroll around the cars as the drivers sit there, seething at their impotence. I’ve even seen someone say “Excuse me” as she wound round the stationary vehicles. Oh the smugness! Oh the joy! Oh the increased chances of an enraged traffic-bound investment banker jumping out and pummelling her to the ground!

I admit, in a blog entry extolling the virtues of walking in London, putting an image in your minds of a pedestrian getting beaten up probably wasn’t wise.

But that pedestrian was being really annoying.