I've been in London since Friday. I am destined to live there. Primarily for the food. I'm going to try oyster next time. 3£ for one oyster on a bed of ice. Delicious.

The coach was at 7am. 6 hours later we're on the tube. We had to meet my companions sister at the gallery that she works out. Possibly in the swankiest part of London where Gucci and Chanel are. I looked like an utter tramp. Everyone was in their suits and heels under large umbrellas and walking impossibly fast and then there's Amelia and I with our big bags and dripping wet clothes. We did wear smiles so I'm not that bothered by it all.

And in the evening. Still slightly damp and still carrying heavy bags. We arrive at Wembley arena to see Gwen Stefani. Three hours early. Exhausted and famished. We walked everywhere and finally found an empty all you can eat Chinese buffet. It was expensive, but very good. I wanted water, but got beer just because they offered.

Two hours early and we're in Wembley sat down and I'm enjoying my new book. We saw CSS who are so, so fun! The front woman reminded me of Bjork except in a Spanish sense not Icelandic. And a lot less professional, but she looked like she was enjoying herself which is why she was great. Plus she was wearing a one piece. What's not to love?

Thought we had amazing seats and realised we were wrong and sat down about 20 rows too late. It was better at the back anyway.. Because she was AMAZING. I was crying for the first half an hour so don't remember much. I have a big history with No Doubt so I was all "Holy hell that's Gwen!" It's when she ran into the crowd and was singing and the bodyguards were everywhere and we were all standing on chairs. WOW. Finale was the best. What You Waiting For? Mm-hmm. Got it all on video. Which will never go anywhere else because my computer is a pile of shit.

Nonetheless. We got lost quite a lot and saw Buckingham palace and a diamond dress. Got home to her sister's at 12 and woke at 7. YAWN. Walked to London Bridge, tower bridge, Burough market then off to the Tate Modern. Got drunk in the members bar and enjoyed some nice art. I was a bit distracted and dying for a fag. The law changes tomorrow for that. I'd better buy about 10 packets. Lost passports aren't great.

Sobered up went pack to Florence's flat and had gin and lemonade in preparation for an American themed party. I was a tourist and wore a bumbag and Grand Canyon t-shirt. The bag was actually extremely practical. Waited outside a flower shop in a rough area until midnight and arrived at the house. Quickly got drunk, had a giggle, chain smoked. Didn't know a single person, but by the end of the night I was rather well known for beating everyone at Foosball. I was very drunk and soon dancing. Traumatising.

Left at 3am. Buses all around. Walked through Trafalgar Square and Piccadilly Circus and such. In bed by 6. Up at 11. YAWYAWN. Nice lunch, straight on the coach home. And here I am!

Slept for about 13 hours and dreamt of my cat with a tail and a touch of eroticism. Not involving the cat, but my previous rather attractive French teacher.

So now I'm about ready to die. I sound like a man thanks to the smoking. I have no clean clothes and all I can think about is ice scream scoops to the brain and learning about art nouveau.

Hopefully I'll be in London this time next year. The buskers are amazing. And really cute.

I need to learn how to avoid homeless people. I always have change and always give a little and all the Londoner's were staring, open-mouthed at me. Is it such a bad thing? I don't need it; got him out of the tube and helped him a little. It's his prerogative. And it's mine! Maybe I won't avoid it...

Best part of this weekend is definitely the Barry Manilow dressed guys dancing to the reggae player and circling Amelia and Flo. Goooodness. What a kooky place.