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An e-mail from Hayley this morning, saying she and her boyfriend are willing to make up the money I lost on the cancelled flights, although she is still talking about appealing to Alitalia on my behalf; she seems to believe that if she tells them the story, they'll give me a refund. I replied, discouraging her from trying anything with Alitalia because legally I don't have a leg to stand on. I knew the T&C's - no refund in the event of a cancellation - when I booked. End of story. I went on to thank her for thinking of helping me, and assure her that I didn't expect them to cough up the whole amount I lost but that if they did feel like sending a few quid my way I'd be eternally grateful.

When I got a married couple at 2.20, elderly but not quite old enough for the oldie's quick questionnaire, I was resigned to missing my bus, but we got the interview finished on the dot of 2.30, and after binning my waste and packing my headphones away I legged it down to the bus stop and made it comfortably.

Hawks v Bedford this evening. There was an electricity failure before the match; thankfully it wasn't enough to shroud the whole ground in darkness, but it did put the floodlights on reduced power and prevent the tea hut from opening. That was unfortunate, as I'd been relying on the tea hut to provide me with evening sustenance at the start of the game, early enough to give me the two clear hours I needed before taking my last tablet of the day on arrival back home.

10 minutes or so into the first half, the man from Southern Electric had showed up, and the floodlights came on full beam, but the tea hut didn't open until 10 minutes before half time. Meanwhile Hawks had gone 2-0 in front through a couple of Rocky Baptiste specials.

During the break I went down to join the tea bar queue, but of course the queue was miles long by now, and it was moving at the pace of an asthmatic ant carrying heavy shopping. That wouldn't have been quite so bad if it hadn't been raining. With the teams just about to come out, legions still in front of me, and me now rather wet, I said "Bollocks to this" and went back to the stand, hungry but looking on the bright side - the pharmacist said the antibiotics worked best taken on an empty stomach, and I'd certainly be doing that.

Rocky completed his hat-trick 10 minutes after the restart, then Tony Taggart made it 4-0 with a beautiful shot from the edge of the area into the far corner. That was how it ended.

Walked back to the station in the rain. With many of the trains still terminating at Fratton, I had a 20 minute wait for one that went all the way. But hey, we won 4-0 :) Passed the time reading the programme (the one produced back in early January when the game should have been played, with a little insert in the middle) - the walk in the rain had reduced the cover almost to papier mâché, but all the inner pages were fine.

Back home to take my tablet and watch Two Pints Of Lager on BBC3 while waiting for an hour to elapse. A couple of minutes after the hour was up I raided the fridge for cheese, and reached for my chocolate reserves (well, they have to be eaten before I give the stuff up for Lent...)

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To London to lay flowers for Sarah. Hooray, this time the in-coach TV was on - we had a Friends, a Simpsons and a My Family, none of which I'd seen before, plus a quite interesting show called Hairy Bikers' Cookbook, a compilation of World Cup goals I was seeing for the second time, and the Exam episode of My Dad's The Prime Minister (3rd time).

Arrived at Victoria just before 11.30. ladymissloki had talked about treating me to lunch today, so I left a message on her voicemail then went to the coach station's little internet cafe to check my e-mail. Also looked at ladymissloki's journal just in case - she'd posted an entry moments after I'd left my message, to say she wouldn't be able to make it. There was also an e-mail from Hayley, asking if I could please dig the booking reference number up - she really thinks she's got a chance of persuading Alitalia to give me a refund, bless her.

So it was on to the train station to buy a bunch of red roses. Took the tube to Sloane Square, laid the roses outside the Royal Court and stood there for a few minutes thinking over my own memories of Sarah.

Back to Victoria to get some lunch. With funds being tight, it had to be something cheap. I quite fancied a Doner kebab, so went to the little kebab window in Terminus Place that I know well, only for the guy to tell me there were no kebabs available as the spit was out of order :( So settled for a Cool Mexican Twister Meal at the KFC upstairs from Victoria Station. Well, at least it was a treat I rarely get, as we don't have KFC in either Gosport or Fareham...

Still had three hours to kill before my coach home, so went round to the internet shop I'd found on my last trip and spent an hour clearing some more of my e-mails. Hopped on a tube to Bond Street and spent some time idly browsing in HMV, looking wistfully at lots of TV comedy DVDs, and got a Belgian waffle from the window by the entrance to the tube station.

There was no TV on the coach home, nearly the whole ride was through driving rain, and though it was only late afternoon/early evening it seemed dead dark. Quite a sombre journey.

Home. Found the booking reference number and e-mailed it to Hayley. Then pancakes, Lille v Man Utd and Life on Mars.