Ah, Bank Holiday weekends. A perfect time to relax, to contemplate life, to take stock and catch up on much-needed sleep.

Not round here, it ain't. On Friday I went with Andy to Club Kali, the gay Asian night in Tufnell Park. I'd been several times before and love it, but I was worried Andy might not get into it. I needn't have worried - he had a huge grin on his face all night. (Admittedly, Andy always has a huge grin on his face, but it was huger than ever.) The music at Club Kali represents the crowd - 60% Asian. The atmosphere is unique in a London gay club - absolutely no attitude. It's like a Southall school disco (an arty, sensitive school, perhaps). Before going to Kali, we met up in Barcode, where we stood near the door and acted as unofficial meeters and greeters - we knew simply everybody. Including the guy in the current Regulation ad [check your copy of Boyz now] who'd had so much coke, a snog from him left my mouth numb for an hour.

On Saturday afternoon I went into town to spend the Virgin Megastore vouchers work had given me for my birthday. Quite why they'd done that, I'm not sure. We never do collections for birthdays - just leaving presents; perhaps they know something I don't. Anyway, I bought four CDs [see list at left] and popped into Comptons for a quick drink. Bumped into the usual lot, who persuaded me to go to Love Muscle that night. So I persuaded Ian to go to Love Muscle that night, and we went to Love Muscle that night. And what an excellent night it was. Even if I did spend half an hour convinced I was German.

On Sunday I got to the Vauxhall at 5pm, and discovered there was already a huge queue. Bank holiday, you see, everyone had the same idea - I'm not working tomorrow, I can get really trashed. And they did. And so did I. Left there at 11:30, made my way to the tube and picked up a couple of people on the platform. Dead classy, me. Off we all went to Habit.

Now, Habit was a real revelation. The next time you're walking down Charing Cross Road, look out for it. You won't see it, though... You know those crappy remaindered bookshops up near Centrepoint? Well, behind their anonymous exterior lurks a sprawling club complex. Four dancefloors - the "Tech House Basement", the "House Room", the room-that-plays-funky-stuff-with-no-one-in-it, and the huge "Nu Style Ballroom" with its vaulted glass ceiling and 160bpm hard house and sweaty shirtless tattooed men. Excellent stuff.

Unsurprisingly, I spent much of Monday in bed.
And then I went home, hur-hur.

Ah, the first day back at work after a Bank Holiday weekend. A perfect time to relax, to contemplate life, to take stock and catch up on much-needed sleep.