First tour finished

First tour done. It’s a lovely thing. The thing with walking tours is that you’re doing them very much in amongst the public. If somebody’s on your bench you might be able to hastily explain that you’ll only be there for a minute or so. If not then they’ll just work it out live and move on. People we stopped at zebra crossings scowled at us. At one point, down in the darkness, there was a loud and shouty fight going on just up the hill from my group. I found myself realising that, if anything untoward happens, I’m the guy who has to immediately try and deal with it. I’m very visible with my stick covered in lights and my huge hat. Thankfully I didn’t have to do any fighting this evening. Long may that continue to be the case.

I’m unexpectedly back home in Chelsea. I was planning on crashing post work in Hampstead in order to start properly packing my friends things into boxes. I couldn’t as I had left the key here. Maybe partly psychological as it’ll be a thankless task. But it means that now, post work, I can wind down in my own home rather than in a flat that will increasingly becoming harder to live in depending on how much work and time I manage to put in to make it so.

As with anything, you never know what it’ll be like until it happens. We were well sold this evening and I don’t think it showed that it was my first time. We didn’t get lost. I made up some spooky things. I had my facts largely straight.

I think this promises to be a pleasant way to spend a few nights over the next few weeks. It’ll just help if I remember to bring the damn keys to Hampstead next time. Being able to crash there after work takes the edge off spending my days packing up somebody else’s things.

I’m strangely exhausted though. I suppose that even though I’m not having to spam energy for just 30 people, first night adrenaline plays its part. I have a feeling I’ll be wrapped up in bed very soon now. And I might sack off the packing tomorrow daytime and just double down on it on Sunday.

My brain is empty. I’m just gonna sink into a bath and then into my sheets. Sometimes the blog can take a back seat. Night night you lovely lot.

Author: albarclay

This blog is a work of creative writing. Do not mistake it for truth. All opinions are mine and not that of my numerous employers.

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