I had Faces-related appointments all over the place, but I was left with hours to 'kill' each day.  I spent the down time as best I could, visiting old haunts, walking through the neighborhoods of Hampstead (where I lived in 1982) and Elephant and Castle (my home in 1983-4).  I walked throughout much of London, in fact.   I lost 22 pounds in two weeks by walking so much.  I walked across every major bridge in London.  I walked the banks of the Thames.  I ignored the cliched 'tourist' routines (as I always do), choosing to discover things by stumbling onto them.

the Bull and Gate, Kentish Town

I hit museums, as well. My biggest regret is that I didn't have more time to crawl them, actually.  The Impressionism-era display at the National Gallery had me weeping for hours (Painted quickly?  Hardly!).  I had great discussions and arguments with a couple of old geezers that turned out to be art theory professors (it's amazing how easily misunderstood a craft is by someone that doesn't practice it!). 

A couple nights later, Rupert and I went to the Ruskin Arms, where we met up with John Hellier, acknowledged Small Faces expert and publisher of the fanzine, Darlings of Wapping Wharf.  We spent several hours discussing the only logical topic in that setting.  It was a great night, although I went absolutely deaf and found myself lip reading for much of the evening.