Watty expounds:

So, I didn't blog today: I went out at lunchtime, and did something instead. I went to find the London Stone (blame Peter Ackroyd - see review). Took the tube two stops to Cannon Street, emerged into the furnace that is the City in late April (no, I'm not kidding, we're having a pseudo-summer) and confidently strode up to the Bank of China.

Well, disappointing would be overstating it a bit. The stone, reputed to be the one upon which Brutus founded the city (hmmm...), but certainly an antiquity of some renown, is entirely hidden by white iron railings and virtually opaque glass. It's also at a quite narrow part of the pavement, so you can't really stop to read the almost entirely useless inscription. The plaque tells you about St Swithin's church, and how the stone used to be on the other side of the road, but tells you nothing about what it is, and what it symbolises. Pah.
Still, I enjoyed the walk back to Blackfriars...