anything goes in, anything goes out

My cousin just left an hour ago. She stayed in my flat for a couple of days. We did rather a lot of cheerful sightseeing together, but she also had time on her own to browse through London. It goes without saying that I didn't allow her to go to Madame Tussaud's, as this would have meant cutting her out of my will. Blood is thicker than water, fair enough. But some things are just unacceptable.

To all you out there who consider going to Madame Tussaud's at some point in your lives. If you want to pay a fortune to see bloody wax figures - ranging from Henry VIII to Britney Spears - some of them really poorly done, queue for about 2 hours (if you're lucky), be surronded by sweating, cursing and pushing tourists, then this is the place for you. Otherwise, don't even think about going there. It's a rip-off.

Rather, go to Tate Modern instead. It's free, it's breathtaking, it's culture. And: No queues.

Last but not least, I have the pleasure to announce that we have a new housemate. About one foot long, furry, not cuddly, sneaky. It's what zoologists call Rattus rattus, a fully grown rat. It went for the poisonous bait. We don't know if the rat kicked the bucket yet, but it might be rotting behind the oven now.