I'm here quite late because the flight was delayed from Stansted, but what I've seen as we came in to land and through the taxi window is actually somewhat appealing. The flight was cheered up by sitting next to a liquidator from KPMG who regailed me with all sorts of amusing anecdotes.

Tuesday night was astonishing fun. The meal at Satsuma was really well attended and drinkies in the Conservatory afterwards even more so. Jamie and I were slightly late because mad landlady took forever checking things and was late as well. But I got my money back an actually got into London at about 7.15pm, so not too late for my 7pm party!!

Highlights included insulting a cab driver ("Stop fucking whinging, I'm paying your wages") and being barred from The Tube. That, I felt was quite an achievement.

What happened was that as we were leaving, I got chatting to Gloria who was working the door. Some stroppy git bashed past me saying something along the lines of "I've said it twice, now I'm just going past." I retorted in my very drunken state with "Oooh. Hark at her!" and he responded with "I'm the manager." My response was "Give people £20k a year and they think they own the fucking planet."

So he stormed off in a strop and I made some comment to Gloria at which point the other guy jumps in with "That's my boyfriend!" which I suggested was not a particularly wise thing to broadcast to the assembled masses. Then there's the obligatory "Do you like coming here?" question (response: "Not really") followed by swift exit.

Ah well.

Actually, when Jamie announced he wasn't feeling very well at all and we concluded someone might have spiked his drinks, they were particularly non-interested, which irritated me, frankly.

Eventually, we all flopped back to Jon's flat on Dean Street (not AI Jon) where we passed out and woke up yesterday morning. Jamie and I made it back into Newbury in the afternoon and I went to NatWest to pay in my first cheque to myself, which was quite exciting.

Jon's in the evening.

This morning I did some PHP stuff for Jon at AI and then got on a train at 1330 to arrive in Stansted at 1630. The flight to Prague was delayed by about 50 minutes which gave me time to find the bar and polish off half of Bridget Jones's Diary.

When I got here, I had a quick shower then we headed out to three pubs. I forgot the first one, but the second was Escape and the third Pinocchios. Both packed full of rent which was somewhat disconcerting as nobody looked at you without a motive. Ended up befriending/being befriended by a lovely guy called Radek who helped me out of a tricky situation with some bloke who'd latched to me and was saying "Business?" and little else. A little too close to QaF Alex for comfort, really.

Graham explained I had to at least experience the places. Pinnochios was too headfucky for words; you walk in down the steps and there are boys - all fit as fuck - just, well, with their bits flopping (or not, as the case may be) around. The going rate is 3000 Koruna. I'm all for flaunting it if you've got it, but it does all seem somewhat exploitative. Still - it's pleasant scenery. Had an argument with this guy called Bruno who couldn't understand that if I wanted, I could have sex for free back home so I wasn't likely to pay for it up front and that if someone was going to touch me - or vice versa - it should be for mutual enjoyment rather than financial reward. I pointed out I wasn't as old as him after all, at which point he left and took his hooker - all of about 15 if that - with him. Perhaps it's just the mindset, but I can't figure it out.

I went out with 1500 Koruna and ended up with 1000 - completely trashed after having bought fags and beer (about 80p a packet/60p a pint!) all night. Supposedly, Radek is being my tour guide tomorrow but I'm not sure how likely it'll be that he turns up. We'll see.