The family grave of Charles Dickens...

...but not THAT Charles Dickens, who lies in more elite surroundings in Westminster Abbey. 

I came across this tombstone quite by chance, wandering through a cemetery during lunch, as one does in search of more cheerful surroundings than the office!

Sick of your ugly boss?

On the no.10 bus. This is stuck to the back of the seat in front of me.

Currently standing at a bus stop in Whitechapel. Behind me, the East London Mosque. In front, the Islamic Bank of Britain. The nearest cafe has a couple of very claustrophobic looking booths where you can sit in the cafe without seeing or being seen- apparently priority for women and family. 

Twitch was not here

Is it right to describe this as a disused telephone booth?

59

An admission: I arrived in London 59 days ago, so this blog is 59 days overdue. It is intended to be mainly a contemporaneous record, but there is some catching up to do as well.

Over and out.

Hello

Hello!

As the blog title suggests, I am brown and down and out in London. I would have just said Down and Out in London, in tribute to George Orwell, and as an accurate reflection of my mental state, but that address was unavailable. As I am as brown as I am down, and there will no doubt be an emphasis on my brown cultural connections, I have settled for this revised title.

Out of time now, so more later.