It's not easy getting from West London to the Dome on a Saturday when there are no trains through Richmond and Twickenham.....and no Jubilee line to North Greenwich.
So we drove
....and no Limehouse link either, just one large traffic jam from Tower Bridge to the Blackwall tunnel.
In two hours on a French motorway you can travel 200 miles - I know, I have done it. Two hours after we left home we were in Wapping. We had eaten all the Werthers, spotted four Stobarts and two Norberts, and retrieved all the CDs from the floor and sorted them into two piles: scratched and unscratched. We had played both the unscratched ones twice.
The only thing that could possibly make it worse was a car crash, and sure enough on the Highway a texting imbecile ran into the back of us. Before you could say whip-lash injury Mrs Botogol had leapt from the car to handle negotiations. In the driving mirror I saw bundle of tenners changing hands - urban fashion - and we were on our way again.
"Do you think there really is a curse?", asked one of the children, afterwards in Starbucks, knocking my Americano all over my newspaper.
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