In Bruges

Despite the worst start to the British winter ever known in my life time we decided to battle on and still go ahead with the planned trip to Bruges - via the car.

06:00 hours Matt Eaton and wife-to-be arrived at the Rose Villa estate for the pick up, still sad over the loss of the chicken's I'd been up early and exploring the even fresher fox prints in the snow. The organisation of this trip was pretty non existent on my part. I only really packed core essentials the morning of let alone had any euros / european power plugs etc so the channel crossing service station proved use for more than the XL bacon cheeseburger breakfast option.

Bruges itself was simply stunning. New cluttered street signage, no yellow lines, no brutal 1960s/1970s architecture just wonderfully cute (small bricked) buildings.

We experienced a range of (in the words of an irish actor) gay beers, including Quack, the guillotine, hoegaarden rose, judas etc.... had a horse ride, saw the chocolate museum and just generally relaxed. I met an interesting coffee retailer who introduced me to giant coffee beans and sold me some green beans which I later roasted in the Rose Villa Estate pizza oven = nice.

As we were making good time on the way home we stopped off at the French hyper markets, wine, cheese and some more cheese were the order of the day and between the four of us we picked up enough supplies to power through until Christmas. Aside from an incident in a French car park, which probably destroyed Mr Eaton's chances of becoming a British Diplomat to France, the driving and entire trip was very smooth. A great way to enjoy a long weekend. Highly recommend being In Bruges.

DGL infected, brutual chicken deaths, backing Dom Joly, epic snow & off to Bruges tomorrow...

Whenever I get a cold - which is normally once a year - the process of infection is consistent. First headaches, then sore throat, then runny nose, nose bleeds, followed by more headaches and usually sore eyes but this time I had added fun trying to breathe and sleep whilst suffering from a disgusting cough. The kind of disgusting cough which can turn even the stiffest of upper lips whilst sat on a commuter train.... I've almost kicked infection but have learnt that my partner in European adventures, Mr Thomas Charles Whitman, is currently bed-bound somewhere in the non-lit streets of the fine Suffolk Countryside and now my lady is _inevitably_ infected.

Its been a cruel week in several ways, my virus, epic snow and the death of our chickens. I was in my sick bed yesterday when Lucy broke the news that they had 'gone' and that there were 'lots of feathers'. She wasn't wrong, I braved the Hoth System style weather and went to investigate. Sadly I discovered a headless two year old Boudicca within the snow, not far from her house. It was a sad moment and one which will remain for a while - you can't really blame the fox for doing what he is programmed to do, and within 24 hours I found myself eating a chicken korma..... but then again Mr Fox clearly kills beyond what he/his family need to eat as otherwise he would have take Boudicca's body away. I also spotted from a distance Sylvia's headless body. I've subsequently worked out the movement of the fox through his snow prints - and lessons have been learnt for the future protection of chickens. A shot gun license perhaps?



After a sad day laughter was found in the wit of Dom Joly, who is single-handedly responsible for I'm a celeb getta me outta here being on series link in the villa. I even clicked the red button and gave him a vote. He will be in the last three for sure and could win it. While the celebs hang out in the tropical climate down under Colchester, Lincoln and indeed many other fine British communities get wallopped with an avalanche worth of thick white stuff - and I'm not talking about full fat Cravendale. Once again the 'warmists' seem to have disappeared back into their boxes as Britain sees the most punishing of beginnings to winter on record - I would stress tho that my great grandma probably worked through ten miles of this snow on a daily basis just to go and pick up a loaf of bread from the baker so as my good Irish friend Trevor Elvin would say theres nothing wrong with walking (just make sure you take it easy ya).

This afternoon I learnt that the Russians had clinched the hosting of the World Cup from us, it felt like we had just lost the tournament all over again. A real shame especially as we sent out the big guns, respect has to go to HRH Prince William, future King of Great Britain; aside from sending out Ross Kemp what more could we have done? I can't help but think the BBC could have waited just another week to broadcast their FIFA-Panorama...

Right time to find out who's getting kicked outta the jungle, then I've got to pack for a 4x4-drive chauffeured journey to Bruges. Quite possibility a crazier idea than sleeping on the high street of Colchester in the snow and -4 temperature.... updates to follow.

Up in the sky & an Epic transport mission and I didn't even get to eat a bowl of Kelloggs

Last Friday I had to walk a ladder up 13 floors, far from ideal and obviously by the end I was sweating like a man wearing a North Face jacket - ah maybe that was the problem.

The ladder was to help get an electricity generating bike up onto a roof overlooking Battersea Power Station as part of a Video shoot with professional cyclist Nicole Cook.

The following day I was due to leave London at 9am driving to Stratford Upon Avon. Sadly the car provided didn't start so some equipment and personnel had to hop into a taxi to Paddington, for a train to Reading then a train to Banbury, finally a taxi to the Holiday Inn - Stratford Upon Avon.

After a punishingly epic edit following an afternoon/evening filming I finally checked into my hotel room at 6am. I awoke at 8am and without a shower staggered down to the best part of staying in a hotel, breakfast. Sadly my body was still eating itself with the sleep deprivation so I could only manage two hash browns some baked beans, tea and OJ. At 9am a taxi drove me with the all important video tapes to ITV Central in Birmingham. It was a 45 minute journey so I got a little shut eye.

Upon hitting the door buzzer at ITV Central I was met by a staunch senior chap in charge of the building - his name was Rod. Rod escorted me through the building and introduced me to some weekend working journos and a dude who works in the MCR (transmission room). After a few coffee's c/o the free coffee machine and an exploration of trainline.com options for my return to Colchester I played out the video tapes to various regional tv stations seeking footage from the Kellogg's Swimtastic Awards. Upon completion of the play out I walked through Birmingham to the New City train station. Considering it was a Sunday it was so busy in Birmingham, lots of Christmas themed wooden cabins everywhere. At one point I nearly purchased some hot chestnuts but oddly I just wasn't hungry.

After some directions from a friendly parking inspector-type I arrived at the train station. There were two jolly fellers selling tickets, note- everyone I had met in my time in Stratford/Birmingham were exceptionally friendly. It was £40 for a single ticket to London on Virgin trains. Fearing I wouldn't be able to sleep on the train unless I had a seat I asked about the First Class option. It was to be 120 big ones, and despite the men of tickets joking about how it wouldnt smell of drugs it was clearly not going to be a receipt I could justify to my employer so standard it was. Luckily I got a seat and it was in the quiet zone so sleep was possible. Once I hit London Euston I taxied over to Liverpool St via the office whom needed some video tapes. I then had to get a tube to Newbury Park, where a bus took me to Ingatestone, to meet a train to Colchester.

I had a suitcase on wheels so the use of the lift at Colchester station was well justified, I felt like crap but ultimately told myself to man up. Within moments of arriving back to the Villa a pizza was ordered, red wine opened and feet up to watch Countryfile and the final part of the amazing Ken Follet Piller's of the Earth drama - Epic, like my weekend.

Refunded taxi cost, epic scooter failure, the Love Bus, Gok Force1, Jedward & a chat with HRH Prince Michael of Kent

The good news is my chickens won't starve this Christmas as I've been working rather a lot lately (hence lack of posting) and National Express refunded a £90 taxi cost incurred due to them giving me wrong timetable advice = nice.

However don't get too excited as the Hoegaarden's aren't really on me because I was handed a nasty bill to replace the engine on my scooter due to a misunderstanding with regards to oil - potential legal case pending so won't say anymore here....

One of the highlights of the last few weeks was the Vodafone World of Difference national tour with Gok Wan. We traveled to Cardiff, Birmingham, Manchester, Leeds, Newcastle, Glasgow and Belfast. I was the edit-producer and so working with cameraman to the stars, Jonas Abbott, and one of London's hairiest soundmen, Anthony Arghyrou, we shot and produced films on each of the site visits. It was quite intense cutting on Gok Wan's tour bus - which he declared with the love bus - and I took in the field editing to a new level by cutting on the flight from Glasgow to Belfast, even finishing the sequence off on the runway. We had an incredible team in charge of logistics - ex Marines - and so we adopted the brand of being the Crack Team. Steak and chips was on the agenda every day after filming (and in my case: cutting, encoding & uploading) although I couldn't help but feel for the PR and Social Media guys who still had more planning/writing to do whilst I tucked into the beef (washed down with some good old fashioned Trempranillo). Dining with Gok Wan, Vodafone's top PRs and the crack team in Manchester's rainbow decorated streets is a memory to cherish.

In amongst various other random corporate shoots, web streamed tv shows and an interview with Jedward (in which I had a minor fail getting confused between Vanilla Ice and MC Hammer) I got to visit Kensington Palace to chat with HRH Prince Michael about his views on new education techniques - Sound! On my out of the palace I was informed about a certain video tape which was made of Princess Diana in the grounds of the palace - a youtube release is doubtful this century mind :)

Toast in Towcester, four cans of cyder, a Becks and a cup of tea.

After a 'standard' day shooting on Thursday I drove to a small market town near Silverstone, Milton Keynes, called Towcester. The purpose - a PR stunt organised by Costa's PR's to promote the new Coffee store, and I was producing content for the news/online media. The stunt was an artist painting with spreads on toast which was to be fixed on the windows of Costa, so painting on toast in Towcester - genius. Sticking the toast down wasn't so easy but with a crack team of professional toast loaders (namely the PR team, myself and Soundman to the stars Joe Price, we nailed it - well actually we didn't we spent £300 on NO MORE NAILS.

NEWS:

www.mirror.co.uk/celebs/news/2010/09/09/marmite-masterpiece-artist-uses-toast-as-canvas-for-celebrity-portraits-of-david-beckham-and-stephen-fry-115875-22549015

VIDEO:

www.youtube.com/watch?v=9-eBIntrqq0

Professional Toast Loaders Darius G Laws & Joe Price*:



After smashing the edit, involving time lapse photography, and couple of quick uploads I drove (with top PR Account Handler Madame Julia Hatch) back to London. My work wasn't over until I'd transferred all files for use first thing in the morning. I got back to Colchester just before midnight having been up since 5am so sleep was well deserved.

Friday's main shoot was a fashion based pr video with top Fashion Presenter/Producer Helen Boyle - I was reunited with Cameraman to the stars Jonas Abbott and we spent the day learning about fashion and how to wear the correct size bra - I also learnt that my favourite colour blue is still the 'new black'.

The shoot went relatively well and after a refreshing Hoegaarden I got a lazy taxi to Liverpool St and hit the 20:00 train as there was a curry with my name on up in uphill Colchester. The train was very busy and there was no seat for me. There was however an old friend, Chole Furniss, sat alone opposite a man drinking cans of cyder. I kneeled on the floor, to the frustraion of everyone wanting to get past me, to have some banter with my old Colchester Sixth Form buddy and fellow Blur enthusiast. She was more tired than I so didn't want a can of Becks but was happy with a cup of tea. A west London dweller, I learnt she 'going home' for a wedding but as per my routine wasn't so certain of the detail and needed to 'find the invitation' - standard.

The Cyder drinker sitting opposite was content with my slight invasion into his personal space. He was on his third can of Cyder since leaving Liverpool St, I enquired if he was going to Norwich but he wasn't he was heading to Colchester, I was somewhat taken aback by his determination to get through four cans of fine Suffolk Cyder in such a short space of time but fair played to him I accidently drank a bottle of rose on the way home on Monday so who was I to argue. He actually showed me how he wouldn't be able to finish his fourth due to a broken ring pull. Determined to show my manly practical skills, and relishing in my success of sticking toast to windows with no more nails I just had to get his can open. So, I whipped out my front door key, penetrated the can and my fellow commuter was on his fourth just minutes before we landed in Colchester.


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* available for hire

Man time on the coast of Essex, no "last train" and a £90 taxi

My partner in European travel adventures Thomas Charles Whitman picked me up at 06:30 on Saturday and we got a transfer from a friend's house in South-West Colchester to Mersea where we met a man and a boat.

It was a male only trip which was ideal as there was only a small bucket to pee in and we were to be at seat for 8 hours. During which time three of us, myself included, had multiple sickness off the side of the boat - the first man of illness was Alex Brown who won the prize for the worst smelling sick I've ever experienced. Second up was myself, although I wasn't sure if it was the boat's rocking motion or a few Hoegaarden's the night before which had done me in, finally it was my good friend Howard (father of one) Alistair Mitchell who "clearly hadn't learnt to be sick as a child" (quote from fellow fishing novice). Once we had all got it out of our system and the skipper had decided to take us to less choppy waters we began to focus on the job - and fish for the BBQ was the desired outcome. Sadly everything we caught was too small to eat with an exception of a whiting (sic) which fisherman Alex decided was to be taken home and prepared for his good lady.

After some food and a few ales we hit the road back to Colchester (DGL minus a flask and a bum bag which were lost somewhere on the coast). Fisherman Thomas Charles Whitman aka Thomas Jenson Whitman was my assigned driver back for the final leg of my journey. Amusingly he had an evening appointment which he wasn't quite on form for following a day of fishing.



After a bath and some photo-editing I prepared for a London bound evening trip. Fisherman Howard Alistair Mitchell was to join me and we boarded the 21:03 train to London. It wasn't very busy, we had a good table seat and had a bottle of the golden wheat beer, some say the drink of the Gods, aka Hoegaarden. We had a long chat with a female ticket inspector about life/the trains/etc concluding with a question from me asking about the final return train to Colchester. I was quoted 12:46am. With this in mind I wrapped early from my East London event and was at Liverpool St at 12:30am, keen on the idea of a hot apple pie and a Sunday newspaper for the return journey. Sadly there was no smooth way home as the last train had in fact been 12:18am. The station staff were as helpful as they could have been but it was I in the end who had to get a 00:55 train to Shenfield and then a £90 taxi from there to get back. Otherwise it would have been another sleep over in the doorway of a shop which wasn't a healthy option. I have written to NX East Anglia and on the basis of being given inaccurate information expect a refund of the cost of my taxi. Fingers crossed.

A Journey on water

I didn't have to travel on the train today in fact I walked to the Roman streets of Colchester twice but this travel wasn't enough to satisfy my craving for a journey....

So, and the reason I had to walk into Colchester on the second occasion today, I decided it was time to find out if my inflatable boats could provide a journey down the river colne. After purchasing a pump, as well as Dom Joly's new book 'A Dark Tourist', I had a mini work out/proceeding to pump my two boats. The first one had a hole on a join so I concluded it was a write off, the second boat had a previous puncture repair but it seemed to be holding so with a pair of oars I took it to water. Just around the corner from where I live is a former Lido which is now connecting to the river. The water level was quite low so I had to jump in, I found myself hesitating in front of a man who I noted had a canoe by his side. He saw my struggle and offered advice in how I would get a float without falling into the mud which I just about managed.

The next challenge was to engage my oars so that I could go cruising however it it suddenly struck me I was sitting in a child's dinghy with a massive hole in it held together by an ancient bike type repair patch - it was time to give up. This view was also recommended by a collection of onlookers. Realising I no longer had a purpose for this boat I asked the man of the water what I should do with it - he suggested a car boat sale. Noting my man's (Justin) canoe I asked if I could get involved - he said I could and that he was waiting to hit the water with the Colchester Canoe Club, I was welcome to hire the full kit for £5. Cashless I asked if I could drop the money through the door tomorrow, after all I do only live over the road. Justin had an eloquent solution, he offered me £5 for my boat as he had a beach hunt in Harwich and his daughter would get use out of it. We had a deal and so I joined some twenty+ guys and we went for an epic journey along the river Colne towards Colchester's Castle and back.

All Off at Shenfield

Last Thursday I'd had a long liquid lunch followed by a chance underground drinking experience with friends (Lady Tills and Miss Richards), despite this I was a good boy and called time on myself around 9pm.

I had hoped to be home and in bed early so to be on form for the following day which was set to be a solo edit, sadly I didn't get back until nearly 3am.

The cables had come down beyond Shenfield, I had the comedy experience sitting next to two young ladies from Stowmarket who had been to London for the day on a 'photoshoot' - it was all new to them but to us professional train commuters there was no doubt we were in for some punishment once they had announced the cables were down.

The train stopped at Shenfield and people piled off in search of some rail replacement buses - you couldn't expect them to be on standby and ready so I got a couple of Adnams from the bar and continued to relax until I realised that many more trains from London were on their way....

With my two new friends from Stowmarket we joined the crowds:





It was dark, raining and the buses were coming one-by-one. As more and more people joined it became unpleasant, with tensions running high. It was everyman, or women from Stowmarket, for themselves.

I'd joked that those who hadn't any critical responsibilities to attend to should go to a pub for an hour and let things calm down I was however lucky to find myself pushed onto the second bus to Chelmsford - where a train would eventually get us to Colchester.

I since heard the police had to be called in to control the crowds - its no wonder as there was no one in charge and no one outlining where and when buses were be arranged.

A Fire, no Friends and no Phone

I hit Liverpool st this evening c. 16:30 with the intention of some political leaflet distribution in Colchester sadly a line side fire in Romford meant no trains were leaving the station....

Usual panic begins, everyone on their phones "hi darling sorry I'm delayed not sure what time I will be back" / "all the trains are fucked" / "can you find out whats going on", and plenty of people pugnaciously questioning NX front line workers and Transport Police. A seasoned veteran in train delays it seemed this one was out of everyone's control and so there was no point in being angry with anyone so I turned to my phone to see who might be around for a pint. Annoyingly my phone was dead because today was the big day my number was being transferred over to Vodafone and my new phone was back home sat next to the kettle.

Without a laptop on me and with little energy to do any 'work' I decided the best option was a can of beer, sat on the steps of broadgate, and some good old fashioned people watching. I then got quite excited at the prospect of spotting someone I knew there was every chance I could go and have another brew or maybe even a bricklane - sadly the random lottery of friends resulted in nothing. About an hour after this I went back to platform 9 to see if there was any train to norwich action...... the tannoy kicked in with 'the next departure to Norwich will be on platform 9' - bingo I was in and quite in front of the masses so I got a seat.

I struggled to get past a couple of pages of my book and became sleepy in the heat, people were standing throughout the train. I woke at one point to see people passing a note down the line - no idea what it said but everyone seemed to be smiling.

Three and a half hours from my initial arrival at Liverpool St I spotted the allotments of Mile End (in amongst the new town houses/flats) and an evening of catch up on work began... political propaganda tomorrow.

Gourmet Dining Options, First Class & Queue Jumping

Its been a while since I've posted but I guess that may be down to the fact I'm no longer doing 5 consecutive days commuting at peak - so the need to note down is perhaps less needed....

I have however some good memories of the last few weeks.

Friends Mat and Clare at Liverpool lured me to drink wine at Liverpool St, once we'd finished I agreed to go seek out the food while they went to find more wine. I was on limited time in the fine dining yellow arched establishment so I had to sacrifice the plain option when it comes to the double cheese burgers....

With seconds to go I boarded the train with Mat and Clare only just making it also... We had a burger and a little (chicken) taster each. Crucially we didn't go for the fries option as I had plenty of home grown salad. The man sharing the table chairs with us found this most amusing - I tho thought it was a great way of balancing the meal.

The summer had most certainly arrived when I realised I was dripping in sweat before I'd even stepped onto the train let alone hit London - with this and with the confidence that I'd be working much that week I purchased a First Class train ticket. I didn't take advantage of it completely (as previous tale happened by sitting in standard) but on the days I did it was most enjoyable. Air con. Space. Peace and Quiet. But at a big premium.

Days ago a well spoken chap sporting a ruck sack and shorts decided he was going to push into the queue. I might normally let this go but time was tight and it was afterall in Colchester. 'Excuse me mate I think I'm next' was met with an obnoxious 'well i didn't know' - what sorry I was standing in line with a debit card in my hand. When I got to the machine it said ' no debit cards ', i turned around to advise the queue jumper and he swiftly walked to the portable ticket dispensing conductor - once again queue jumping. I gave up.

Metro in audio book & the loudest toddlers in England.

Traveling outside of rush hour on the train can often be a relaxing experience. Not it seems if your journey is to take you from Waterloo to Andover. Yesterday I went to record and photograph the sculptor working on the Sir Keith Park statue. Having already read the metro on the Colchester to London train I tucked into a history book on Rome only to be distracted by feeling a sense of deja vu – I could hear some Canadians talking about the stories I’d already read. At first it was odd but then I realized , rather annoyingly, one of the party of three was determined to read the metro newspaper out loud to the group. This was however nothing on the scale of punishment I was going to be put through on my return journey to London.

A young middle class mother and her two toddlers were sat adjacent to me in the quiet zone. Now I hadn’t deliberately aimed to be in the quiet zone but once I was settled I realized it was an ideal opportunity to catch up on sleep – this was the plan but very quickly I realized it wasn’t a viable option given how noisy the two young children were. Not being a parent I dismissed my initial annoyance at their noise, that was until the mother starting encouraging – whilst we are all sat in the quiet zone – her children to practice singing. This was all happening whilst the younger of the two girls was standing on the seats, with mum encouraging the continued ‘fun’. I resisted temptation to request for a more socially aware approach to child management (in the style of a recent trip to Lincoln where I had to offer feedback over a poor standard of coffee) so for an hour had to endure the noise. Mum did try and calm the children down towards the end of the journey with a classic game of I SPY but this didn’t entertain the oldest child who went off and found a man with an IPHONE on the train – in which she persuaded him to access some games. The mother found this amusing, and without apologizing to the man merely said that she ‘does this all the time’.

Now I’m no parent but I do think encouraging some social discipline into young children is probably a prudent long-term move – the next time I have to endure a family like that in the quiet zone I might just have to offer that feedback.

Lost Beer and Lunch

Yesterday's 07:45am was canceled and the 08:00 was 10 or maybe 16 minutes late so most of us made our way to platform 2 for to get on 08:02. 08:02 came and went and the driver announced that the train was going to be held to allow for the 08:00 to pass through. This was the moment everyone dashed back onto platform 3 but in my joining of the exodus an asda bag containing morning picked fresh salad, a hunk of cheese, some bread and a can of Becks left my company.

I realised about half an hour later but what was even more annoying was that the driver had got it wrong and it was his train, the one with my lunch and few passengers which set off to London first.....

Not an ideal start to what was otherwise a pleasant day - in which I met Director Noel Clarke and produced a webchat with presenter to the stars Vicky Letch.

Back in the Game

I’ve not been commuting into London on a daily basis now for several weeks and the new modus operandi of being a freelance worker is proving a good experience. Little known to my sus-chef at home but there have been a couple of trips to the exquisite burger feasting establishments of Liverpool St already this week, last night’s being totally Hoegaarden induced – in mitigation it was my friend Jonas who suggested a drink and having spent most of the day in the flagship Bravissimo bra retail store it felt like the manly thing to do.

Following a good AM shoot this morning with the legendary lighting cameraman Carlos I hit another establishment, so confident of its offering it calls itself ‘The Legend’ - and seriously this East London barbers is worthy of its name. Yasmin didn’t whip out the fire on my nose and ears this time but he did works of art on my receding hairline and then finished me off with a good old-fashioned hot towel. Feeling a little fatigued after walking through a sea of fine food options at Whitecross market I was lured in by the third Starbucks I saw. It was however a good move as only last night I’d been studying the label of a Ice Cold Latte and the main man in Starbucks gave me one free of charge.

Confident with my replenished caffeine supplies I saw a Maker’s Mark promo stand so went to try a whiskey with ginger – nice and refreshing although perhaps one questions the merit of a whisky which you need to add a mixer with to enjoy.

You see all sort’s of different aspects of life by living outside 9 til 5, for one I had no idea that you could get a train from Liverpool Street to Peterborough, thankfully it stopped off at Colchester…..

The end of the line?

This Friday will be my final journey to London working on a full time PAYE basis - (although I think I've got to travel to Bristol and back.)

I'm going to be self employed once again, in the short term I'll be putting my desire to have a Conservative MP as my number one priority. I'm also going to make time to PR the fine work of the Woodland Trust and Colchester's Archaeological Trust. Longer term plans are yet to be firmed up but one thing is for certain the world of 9-5 shall be no more - dynamic, progressive companies, individuals and organisations should join with me in embracing this. In doing so there will be more seats on trains, less traffic on roads and a happier nation I'm sure.

A young man editing

An evening ago we were about two minutes from arrival into Colchester and I noticed the departure crowd had entered my editing suite aka the floor outside the toilet. I was fully aware of the train's progress past the tragic overly developed Mile End when suddenly a women learnt forward and pugnaciously addressed me with "excuse me we want to get off". Before she had even delivered her words I could sense she was uneasy with my being on the floor so I had a pre recorded response ready and as sharp as a freshly sharpened pencil I instantly hit back with "its ok I'm getting out too" - sure enough I was on my feet and had opened the door of the train with plenty of time to spare....

An interesting week in which I noted being described as a 'young man' by multiple people - mainly the train ticket inspectors but a few other randoms as well. Odd. Spent Friday evening at the Colchester Roman Feast - in aide of the Save the Circus Fund:

www.romancircus.org

Just finished a day long shooting in Wandsworth, for the Conservatives. Fantastic part of London.