Another early start to avoid the legendary Cosmo Breakfast, which I have previously and accurately described in politically incorrect terms which are not really suitable for publication. Very good coffee elsewhere however, then back to Senate House for today's papers.

Started with some papers on unfamiliar authors for me - E.M. Forster and J.B. Priestly. The Priestly paper in particular, given by Ken Smith was inspiring - another addition to the reading list in 'Angel Pavement'. Then, two panels of papers on 'Sinclair, Ackroyd and Moorcock'. This was a gamble for me, and it seemed odd to be watching people squabbling academically about living, breathing authors! This particularly came to head when questions were invited on a paper regarding 'The Blakean Legacy in Sinclair'. A smartly dressed and hitherto quiet member of the audience turned out to be slightly more intimately connected with the text than expected, which of course meant trouble, and an invitation to continue the discussion privately!

The papers broadly confirmed my expectations - lauding Sinclair, vilifying Ackroyd and (almost) ignoring Moorcock. That said, the papers on Sinclair were pretty incisive, gripping stuff. He seems to infuse his critics with the essence of his writing! One paper defended Ackroyd's historical writing somewhat, and after early accusations of Conservatism he was later described as a "romantic anti-capitalist" - an epithet I rather liked. It was however, very encouraging to see these writers being discussed in serious terms, and it filled me with enthusiasm for my own, far less significant projects which is always a good thing! A final Plenary session ended the conference, with Professor Sukhdev Sandhu speaking on 'Chinese Writing in London' with particular emphasis on the original Chinatown in Limehouse.

My only regrets are the papers I couldn't get to - particularly the one on Christ Church, Spitalfields - a favourite spot of mine. I can't quite describe how incredible and life-affirming the last couple of days have been. Its rare you get the chance to talk obsessively about one of your passions among people who firstly understand you, and secondly have a whole pile of things to tell you which you'd never have discovered on your own. Having strayed from the academic path somewhat, I rely on these events to keep me on the straight and narrow to some degree.

Feeling much better and well rested, set out early to avoid the breakfast at my hotel and to get some decent coffee. Off to Senate House to register. Despite over a year of membership of the IES and previous conferences, I still find approaching this building (which was used for 'The Minstry of Truth' in the film version of 1984) slightly forbidding.

Registered, and headed for the first Plenary session. I always like to arrive early, select a seat in an unobtrusive part of the room, and watch people arrive. This was an interesting bunch - very cosmopolitan, including delegates and speakers from Russia, South Africa, Australia, Poland, the US and Canada among others. In fact, I met a number of very nice people in the first session alone.

The keynote, delivered by Professor Chris Jenks on 'The Flâneur as Urban Ethnograper' absolutely hooked me in. I'm always convinced before these events that things will be completely beyond my comprehension, but this seemed to pull together all sorts of questions and readings from the past few years.

I hope to put my many pages of notes into some form of order, so not too much more detail - no doubt to the reader's relief - but for the rest of the morning I delighted in hearding about the sublimity of sewers, London as the new Jerusalem, why the Martians attacked suburbia in The War of the Worlds, discovered new names for my ever-growing reading list and explored topographies of both shame and poverty.

A brief lunch and much needed pint, then back for more. The 'Spectropolis' panel had sounded fun, and I wasn't disappointed - firstly a paper on Will Self, a favourite for me among modern authors, then a paper on 'The Necropolis Trope in London Writing' which provided some fascinating stuff about cemetaries, and included reference to James Thompson BV. A couple more papers with dystopian and suburban themes, and the first day was over. Out and about briefly, but I was too exhausted to get up to much of the customary conference overindulgence. In fact a few of us decided on a quiet evening, and I eventually retired relatively early, but very happy.

First day of my holiday, and predictably I wake feeling like crap! Medicate myself for hayfever and headaches and complete packing. Off on the 0908, changing at Bristol for the 1010. Absolutely faultless running, with a slightly early arrival. Straight to my usual hotel - its a back-to-basics experience, but its cheap and perfectly located.

Having ditched the bags, out into the humid afternoon for some wandering about and to seek food. Almost unconciously find myself heading to Clerkenwell Green. Pleasant time sitting watching lunchtime workers and investigating a "London's Lost Rivers" exhibition which was pretty well done - down to a 'simulated' river of pungent green litter-filled water in the middle of Vine Street Bridge.

Time for a quick beer in the City Pride, listening to Guardian hacks comparing notes, then back to the hotel since I was still feeling pretty grim. Ventured out again later - striking east for a long walk to more old haunts, including Whitecross Street and a couple of pubs - probably not the best idea in the circumstances. Pretty exhausted, so returned on the train for an early night. Hoping to feel better tomorrow.

Woke to the promise of another sunny day. Out on the 0640, changing at Reading for economy's sake once again. Some delays on approaching London Paddington, and further frustration since the Circle was out of use once again - I have an incredible aptitude in selecting just such weekends it seems.

Set out across the City from Farringdon, and hopped on a Kent bound service at Cannon Street just as far as London Bridge. Out of the station, and along Druid Street in search of the remains of St. John Horsleydown. The short walk through deteriorating neighbourhoods ended abruptly as passing under the railway, I saw the telltale ashlar blocks and strange vents and portals of a Hawksmoor church. From the midst of the remains rises the red brick of London City Mission, the whole thing being set in a busy little park beside a small housing estate. Passed a few moments, then off again via Tooley Street to London Bridge.

Next, to Greenwich. From the station into the High Street, then a long and rather hot walk before once again accidentally stumbling upon St. Alfege. Again, a buidling on an impressive scale with particularly curious stairs at each side, a small passage running into each raised stair area. Rather incongrous lantern on the tower (tacked on in 1730 by John James it seems). Very much a working church, with a pleasant and welcoming groundsman and vicar in attendance.

Onto the DLR here, and a quick high-level glimpse of St. Anne Limehouse and St. George In The East. Alighted at Shadwell, and made the swap onto the East London Line, then the (incredibly crowded) Hammersmith & City to get to Liverpool Street. From here, a strange crabwise crawl through the oddly bleak hinterlands of the City to Commercial Street, haunted by occasional glimpses of Christ Church, Spitalfields. This time, the hoardings were down, but the work continues. Couldn't access the grounds, but managed to get some pictures of the massive forbidding spire.

Back on the hoof now across Finsbury Square and Bunhill Fields, and then via familiar old Whitecross Street to St. Luke, Old Street. Now the home of the LSO this small and rather plain Hawksmooor church still has a mighty presence. The grounds too, were slightly populous - with students writing postcards home, a merry group of singing drunks, and a colony of roadies unloading musical gear for the Orchestra - all under the shadow of the rather unnerving obelisk.

The purposeful part of my wanderings done for the day, struck out for Smithfield and a well-deserved pint or two of ESB. A hot, tiring but rewarding day of trekking. Another gallery will follow at some point...