New Years Day. Evening home alone. Spontaneously absconded on the Overground to Crouch Hill. 25 minutes from the sofa to a new reality. Down Crouch Hill, Ally Pally glowing luminous green on the other side of the valley. The clock tower draws up the energy radiating from the ley line junction (according to legend) on Crouch End Broadway. Flashback Records. Late night newsagents with window full of drug paraphernalia. The Kings Head where I did stand-up (twice at least). Back up Crouch Hill to a decent pint in The Robin and back on the train to Leyton.