Torrential rain all afternoon. Left Liverpool Street station in chaos. Infuriating absence of public announcements resulted in hapless would-be tube travellers being directed from entrance to entrance, concourse shortcuts blocked by lakes of rainwater and cash machine queues. Took me 10 mins to elicit that tube was inaccessible. My irate departure took me straight into the lake outside McDs’ where upon annoyance really set in. Stomped to Bank muttering under my breath about city wankers with golf umbrellas restricting walking flows to one person per pavement width. Phoned Phil to alert him to my inevitable delay – the reason for my brisk pace and ire being that I was due to met him outside the Prince Charles at 6.15, and that was looking wholly unlikely. And I’d tried to make sure I’d not be late. Foiled again
Arrived sodden at Bank and opted for the Waterloo and City line to waterloo thence Northern line to Leicester Square, figuring that the Central was more at risk of flooding, and heavy demand from fleeing commuters.
Got to Prince Charles just ahead of Phil even so (just) and we munched pop corn and revels through “No Man’s Land”.