The feet are tingling, rather than sore. The thighs are aching a bit, though. I'm in the easyeverything cafe on Kensington High Street, having walked for five-and-a-half hours so far. With a few stops, naturally. Next Hammersmith, and then... who knows? Chiswick?

Quite how I'm going to be able to dance all night for my birthday tomorrow is a mystery. Jonathan has suggested I must be on drugs, and has referred to my walk as A Pilled-Sim's Progress.

Regular progress updates on Blogadoon thanks to the twin marvels of mobile phones and Ian .