Once I return to the depths of the Underground, in need of an earlyish night after all this walking, an obsessive thought crept into my head - it was only one stop down the Northern Line to Euston...that would take out both the Euston Stations...before I'd really thought about it, I found my feet taking me on the Northern Line escalator.

At Euston there's no name marker to say 'Euston', just a bloody great roundel in the ceiling; that will have to suffice.

I bother woman who isn't as harried looking as the others that rush past to the escalator. She seems baffled by the request but dutifully points the camera and as she takes the shot I see she presses the 'off' button rather than the shutter. I see the camera switch itself to sleep...however, duty done, she seems eager to get on her way and stop having to deal with the pink haired nutter so I just smile, take the camera back and say 'thank you'...I then get an attack of nerves; all around me people are rushing homewards, or stand about finishing phone calls before they go out of reception underground. It must take me a good three minutes to summon the nerve to ask someone else, but even though he too seems baffled that I should want such a thing as a picture of me under the Euston Underground roundel he does the job, even getting down on one knee to frame a better shot.