Thursday May 12, 1977

Met Carole at 7.30 at the White Cross and we got an omnibus to Bradford. The new bus station is like Versailles. All carpeted with piped music, and chandeliers hanging like great foxgloves from the ornate ceilings. In fact it looks as if Bradford City Council have had some help from Rubens or Van Dyck.

Carole is strangely quiet. We laugh at the fact we have to return to Shipley to go on to Bingley and the realisation that the visit to Bradford's 'Hall of Mirrors' could have been avoided is like a blow on the head with a mallet.

In Bingley for 9 o'clock. After a few drinks we walked to Oakwood Hall for 10.15. Peter N was in with his friends again. Carole and I had a good talk about the past year. (Oh shit, the ink is going all the way through the bloody paper for some reason). We decided that we are getting on better this time round. Home in another taxi at 2am. The taxi driver smoked a large cigar and sounded like an Old Etonian. No doubt he's a poor hereditary peer who cannot afford to get down to the House of Lords.

Not seeing Carole until next Thursday. I have thoroughly enjoyed it.

-=-