In which I return to Cambridge.

So. Arrived in town having, on the plane, sat next to two women who were obviously heading for a party weekend in London and were drinking heavily and expensively in anticipation. Unpacked at top speed and went to Vicky's to have dinner with her, Alex and Soleil, then we all went to Ta Bouche for drinks (turns out one of the bartenders makes excellent mojitos, the other one makes very mediocre ones), then I went home in the pouring rain and said good night to Tom and Louisa, who were watching a film and mocked my bedraggled appearance mildly. At least they offered me breakfast cereal in the morning, as I have not been shopping yet.

I am now sleepy. And my hair is still wet. It's one-thirty in Norway; I'm going to bed.