London Calling

And, just as the Clash once crooned, London has indeed been calling me a LOT during the evening.  After a nice dinner at Wild Honey (now there's  a treat for all you Tiamat-fans out there), Eddie and I headed over to a couple of Soho bars, where we enjoyed a Balvenie (Founders Reserve; good, but nowhere near the double-wood or any of the other expressions), a Talisker (good. as always.) and an Aberlour (remarkably anonymous, given the sherry-bomb character it usually displays. I suspect an old bottle that's been open for too long.)

Sitting in my hotel room now, I can't get the blinds down, so a big part of London can watch me write this before it's bedtime at Tottenham Court Road.

But... do I care? Nope.
In your face, neighbours. The malts and London is too good for being disturbed.