There is deep joy to be had in exploring on your own two feet. Who says you need to go abroad to be a tourist?
After packing up from West Wales and what had been an altogether overwhelming couple of weeks, Stu and I headed towards a very warm London for a few days of rest bite.
And by rest bite, I mean exploration.
Because pounding the pavement for the sheer delight of it is about as rested as I get.
I know, the throbbing pulse of near constant energy that London is world renowned for may not strike you as the ideal place to chill out and calm down, but an agenda-less blank sheet of countless possibilities was exactly what the doctor ordered.
Having never really been to Central London before, we did the whole tourist bit. Ballet at The Royal Albert Hall, coffee in Monocle Cafe and shopping in Cath Kidston's Piccadilly store - the Holy Grail of destinations, as far as I'm concerned.
My first city break ever. Made all the more poignant for having walked every step of it myself.
Not the greatest of achievements for your average person, but a mountain all its own for me.