Nothing out of the ordinary on the way home until we got to the Oval, where, if all goes well, we slide two lanes to the right from the bus lane to the lane for Stockwell. Unfortunately the stream of boy cyclists and cars overtaking us was so continuous that I shook my head and the Babe and I went home via Brixton Road, which is not really longer, but a tad more 'real'. As the dog fight and the armed police cordoning off a murder site (might have been a big crack bust, but no helicopter...) demonstrated. However, it's been a while, and the speed at which she ascended the rise to Streatham was such an improvement on her last effort that good humour was restored. And, as for the murder site - one week last year I passed three. So, hey, life goes on.....