A Capital Day Out Grommit (copyright Aardman Animations Ltd)

Sue and I paid a fleeting visit to London, just a dash up and back as she’d had to get back for her last BSL lesson before the final exam.

Now, for any who haven’t been to London, the Capital is big and busy. Make that, huge and bewildering. Last time I was up there was to return a test bike (Moto Guzzi Norge for bike fans, and I loved it too, but I am a Guzzi fan (mine sits in the garage next to my American V-Twin).

I was determined I wouldn’t repeat the experience of wondering why the Southampton train had stopped in Brighton. Honestly. I’m not much of a public transport user, two hours to get back from where I didn’t want to be.

Walking proved to be the big problem this time. As I’ve said, Sue and I hold hands when out and about. She’s always been on my right as that was the ear which had retained some hearing.

At the station we bought tube tickets at the manned booths – nope, not automatic ticket dispensers for us, I didn’t even know where we were going let alone how many zones we’d cross. Anyway, which platform and where is it???

Helpful staff, really. So, we found ourselves at the top of the down escalator. I asked Sue if she was alright using that as she has vertigo problems (thanks Menieres) and she nodded she’d be okay. The short, flat, take off turned into a descent that would do a theme park credit. It just dropped away beneath us, almost as fast as Sue’s eyes peeled back, won’t say what words I lip read. I stood in front to block the view and she made it, not much option really. Once down, we went back up, I’d said it was the wrong platform. A really friendly and helpful tube chap took us through a barrier so we could use the stairs, worth repeating – great staff.

Out on the streets we walked through crowds, past pavement bollards, past bins, cafe chairs, stone seats, hoards of people looking everywhere but where they were going (just as we were doing in the anxiety of not getting lost) and finally along a cobbled street.

And my legs where black and blue after banging into all that hard stuff and flesh. And my right shoulder, and that side of my back, ached as Sue’s not as tall as me, so I’d been stomping along in a twisted march. I’d tried to slow Sue down so we could talk (STOP GRIPPING MY HAND LIKE A VICE, sort of discussion) and I could make some suggestions about how we walk through crowds (STOP BANGING ME INTO EVRY BLOODY OBSTACLE AND IDIOT IN LONDON), sort of stuff. But Sue was set in go mode and concentrating on where she was going.

We did chat about it and Sue laughed (always a delight to see her happy, even if it is when I’m in pain and anguish).

Being deaf Sue missed the announcements on the tube, she’d asked why passengers were looking worried and I’d had to explain the automatic station announcements were going the wrong way, they’d been telling us we’d been heading out of Capital instead of into the centre. Not that I’d have known any different, even with my glasses on I couldn’t read what the map said with all that bouncing and rocking.