Every November 5th, England lights up bonfires, lets off fireworks, and burns a man in effigy. How could we resist?
It had been a full day at Kew Gardens but surprise, surprise, The Geologist had figured out we could stand on the riverbank with a few thousand of our closest new friends and watch fireworks.
We wandered from Sloane Square into darkest Chelsea and out the other side.
Paintbox colours spilled from the bridge.
The place filled up even though it was a coldish evening.
Over the wall beside us there appeared a frogman, minus breathing apparatus. Turned out to be a kayaker, one of a pod of night paddlers who go out on the Thames every Bonfire Night it seems. Crazy, yes.
Tourist river cruise boats took up watching positions in the channel, anyone who could find a parking spot along the road behind us did so, and traffic generally froze for about an hour.
When would it start?
Not at 7.
Not at 7:30.
But then, at 8: Wow.
Guy Fawkes night in London. Check.