Davy Down… tick. Done. Not sure we’ll repeat it.

We have a book of walks that rarely fails to disappoint. It’s one of several, but we like variety so we still take it out now and again and try out its routes to see how they fair. Rarely do they fair well.

Davy Down was a case in point. In fairness it’s not far from the A13, Lakeside or the M25, but it is an urban park, there’s an old pumping station there that still draws water from a fault in the chalk about 150 metres down and there are some nice wire sculptures of kingfishers, dragonflies and herons (although sadly they just remind you how close you are to iron and concrete constructions).

The walk itself took us across the fairly small Down, over a bridge and into some woods… just so we could then take two left turns to end up back on the Down. It took us back past the bridge to another bridge about 400 metres further up the river, back across it, across the down and back to the car.

All very pedestrian (in every sense of the word, whether punning or not).

Perhaps we didn’t see it at its best, but there wasn’t much pretty about the down beyond some blossomy tufts on a few of the trees and, elsewhere, catkins.

I did go to Davy Down once, years ago, but my memories of the place were hazy. Let this post be forever a reminder not to head back in any sort of hurry.

The press would be up in arms if this was British breakfast TV, but clicking through the related videos, this is clearly the norm in New Zealand. It would almost be enough to lever me out of bed half an hour early.

Yes, yes. We should have known. Hindsight is always 20/20.

So the Natural History Museum was hideously busy and full of kids, but then it was a Saturday, there was a queue of tourists leading up to the door, and lots of annoying dads without mums trying to entertain their kids as we all traipsed past the dinosaur bones.

So, what was good about it?

Not the Darwin Centre, which is a shame as I had been really looking forward to that. It’s a massive collection of bottled specimens of – a locker for all life on the planet, I suppose – but all we saw of it was the static displays in a dull concrete cocoon. Why didn’t the fact that the dinosaurs were massively overrun while this had only us and one other family in it tell us anything.

We enjoyed the dead animals in glass cases, though, and the enormous blue whale skeleton was pretty impressive. I think the best thing about the place, though, is the architecture. The building itself is a real wonder, with intricate carvings of animals all over it, both inside and out. Even without the exhibits that would be enough to recommend a visit.

Nothing like it would ever be built today outside the confines of a theme park, and even then it would be knocked up using chipboard and plaster, not carved from beautiful coloured stone.

The moral, then, is to go with kids, or go when the kids have left, or go there as a kid, like I did the last time I went.

If you want to go as an adult, go to enjoy the architecture, and certainly enjoy its contents, too. Just steel yourself for the nippers running around your feet.

Everyone I’ve seen talking about this has said what a good film it is, yet it’s not the kind of story you’d imagine would attract a mass audience.

It’s a slice of life – a snippet from the lift of King George VI – the current Queen’s king, who found himself lumbered with ruling and responsibility after his brother, Edward VIII, gave up the throne to live with Wallace Simpson.

That would have been all fine and well, except that he had never wanted to be king.

He suffered from a nervous stammer which would have to be managed if he was to address the public, as the public expected. This film is the story of his developing relationship with speech therapist Lionel Logue.

It’s brilliantly done, with their fractious, bumpy relationship slowly mellowing and eventually becoming a life-long friendship as the king finally admits that the man’s unconventional methods are doing him some good.

I’m not giving away anything in revealing that it leads up to the outbreak of the Second World War, and the country’s expectation that the king should address them, to give them support and guidance as hostilities broke out.

They’re already talking about Colin Firth winning awards for his performance and it’s hard to disagree. His inability to get out his words it utterly convincing, but it is that hard-won friendship that really makes the film.

The king can barely speak without Logan’s support, yet Logan can’t speak for him. The two co-exist, and together bring the country together, yet only one got the credit for this extraordinary leadership.

Flawless performances all round and a heartwarming story make for highly recommended viewing.

So as of the start of this year, I have a new boss. Me.

My office is a desk in the spare room; I’ve swapped the grey view of London rooftops for the chickens in the garden and, beyond them, the allotments.

It’s quiet. Very quiet. I got a call on Friday from a journalism student (full marks for tracking me down at home) and took the time to answer her questions on the grounds that her conversation was more stimulating that miaowing any longer at the cat.

Apart from a freelance break between college and my first full-time mag job, this is the first time in 26 years that I’ve not had a season ticket for the train (I rode the trains to school) and that’s a bit strange. Rich still had to endure the inevitable delays on the first morning back as the Christmas engineering works over-ran AGAIN.

I have found, though, at the end of this first week, that I’ve not been good about sectionalising my hours. I’ve been working from roughly half seven in the morning until seven in the evening, and that can’t be good.

For the moment, though, I’m finding the work very interesting. I hadn’t realised how much of each day used to be spent reading and correcting proofs, looking at the budget and completing the day-to-day magazine admin that was a part of being an editor, and that feels quite liberating.

If anything, though, this merging of home and work hours hasn’t been good for keeping up with personal email, reading blog and the like. That, I think, is something that needs work.

Early days, though…