BST (GMT + 1)

6 am early Sunday morning. After a busy day at work and an even more eventful night out at the Matter we headed over to nearby Greenwich for sunrise. I like to blame the next actions on lack of soberness but, stupidity and peer pressure are perfectly legitimate reasons. Being my first time at GMT I had convinced myself that I couldn't wait for the museum gates to open and that I would simple sneak in, take a photo and be on my way. In some countries it's called "break and enter". My term sounds less juvenile. As usual I had only thought as far as an entrance plan, I would jump onto the nearby ledge, up onto the barricade and the leap over the fence landing safely on the other side. I had (as usual) neglected to think through any form of exit plan and a 2 metre fence would have been quite the challenge. Halfway through the plan I was just about to leap over the final stage when I was rudely interrupted by a security guard. What proceeded was an ear bashing capable of humbling any grown man. "Don't you ever come here again, what do you think this is?" - I was instantly sober and I sheepishly retreated to back into the park.

We lay on the cool grass as the sun rose over East London. For the next hour or so we dozed in and out of sleep. Our bodies tired, but minds active as we lay remembering the night before. It was then two photographers approached us and told us that they were looking for subjects to shoot for their upcoming marketing advertisement. They were after Sunday morning models, we accepted and signed away permission for our faces to be used in the campaign. Unfortunately, the campaign was for the Museum, the very museum that I had tried to break into. I explained this to the photographers and they assured me that everything would be ok. We were escorted through the side gates like royalty. I could feel the stern look of the security guard eye-balling my every move. Photos were taken and soon enough we were lying back on the grass, the sun completely over the horizon as the park filled with Sunday morning strollers.

Ain't London great?