I woke up in Southend on Sunday morning. The problem with that is that it had involved leaving London and by the time I saw Canary Wharf disappearing behind me on the way out I was already having second thoughts. It seemed so grim when I was arriving, going through Basildon on the train didn't help me garner any enthusiasm and yet it all seemed quite pretty by the time I was on the way back home. The two great things about London are leaving it and returning to it. I was texting Richard on the way - I told him I could see the sea, he asked me if if was like South Point, I told him it seemed more like No Point. The English coast reminds me of being in rehab in Brighton about 19 years ago. The Morrissey Song Every Day Is Like Sunday used to play on the radio all the time. I used to sing it around the house to annoy the staff.