I've never been so pleased to see my bus-stop. Just got home - stopped at Finchley Road station on the off-chance there'd be trains, but there weren't. Although it was like a cocktail party there - lots of people who live in Rickmansworth hanging out hoping for trains because it's sixteen miles.
Walked up the Finchley Road - healthy to walk, but unhealthy in that the only moderately safe un-icy route was through the middle of the traffic, so I've probably inhaled the equivalent of 200 cigarettes. Saw a C11 bus near Swiss Cottage, was going to get on it, but it was the same off-route C11 bus I'd seen in Camden an hour or so before, and it wasn't going any faster than me and I stopped for a cup of tea and to read J&H's little girl a Jemima Puddleduck story.
Met a woman on the Finchley Road at ten o'clock who'd left Harlesden at six, a Japanese bloke in West Hampstead who said this is his first London winter, is it always like this? What's scary is not the walking, but the black ice - there's people falling over all over the place, and my back feels very stressed just from concentrating on looking for a reasonable footing since 7pm.
Hitched a ride from Sally, a lovely American woman from one end of Mill Lane to the other - about twenty cars wouldn't stop, as this kind of weather brings out the selfish gene in most people.
I am going to have a very, very long, hot bath.
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