It's been a busy couple of days. I haven't been down to London in some time, but the chance to do some press with the likes of Colin Farrell and Brendan Gleeson (for In Bruges) and Natalie Portman, Scarlett Johansson and Eric Bana ( for The Other Boleyn Sister) was enough to get me up at an ungodly hour on Monday morning and head down to the Big Smoke (or rather the Little Smoke since the law changed on cigarettes).

The train trip down (and indeed the one up, on which I'm currently about 30 minutes outside of Leeds) has been weird in the sense of changing scenery. Leeds early Monday am was bright and beautiful if also chilly-to-the-bone cold. Travelling down the east Coast line we went from bright sunshine to fog, cloud, a frost that looked so deep it could be measured in cemtimetres and fields that looked like those cheap white fake trees you get at Christmas. It's the same again on the way back from London. Truly, looking out of the window...it looks like I'm in Siberian Suburbia (right now, it's actually dull Doncaster, but at times it's hard to tell).

London was good, the Hollywood stars glittered convincingly; Molly, Dina, Jan and Co. were on fine form and the only bad point was heading back to my room at a very civil hour and being sick after a pub evening meal which didn't taste dodgy at the time, but obviously disagreed with me. When anything disagrees with me, no good will come of it...

Brrrr...