Obviously a trend is developing here. I arrive in London and go to the Wellcome Centre. It's not for the exhibitions nor the tales of medical mysteries but the cafe.
Though I am going off the coffee. I think the cup is too big. My cup runneth over?
Is life becoming so run of the mill that I'm getting picky about the cups?
But one does have to be judicious. A few weeks ago the powers that be at St Pancras erected the five rings of the Olympic movement. It's part of gearing up for the games next year.
The rings are rather splendid and dominate the moment of arrival. I find myself today thinking about back home.
The French Open started on Sunday and my mind is back at Roland Garros and the hard hitting thrills of clay court tennis.
I went to the press day at the tournament on Friday and listened into the likes of Andy Murray, Roger Federer, Maria Sharapova and Novak Djokovic.
Djokovic is the head honcho of the moment not having lost a match this year. Seven tournaments under his belt, two of them on clay and he beat Rafael Nadal in Madrid and Rome.
This is seismic. It means that for the first time in many years, the French Open isn't about waiting for the final between Federer and Nadal. Or actually the Nadal victory because he always beat Federer in Paris.
Poor Rog. In his press conference he was being quizzed like an also ran. The one time boss of the circuit was reduced to admitting he was not among the favourites and hailing another man's unbeaten start to the season.
The mighty is falling but there's about 40 million dollars sloshing around his accounts to help him and his family cushion the fall.
Nadal and Djokovic will be out showing their wares on Monday and Tuesday. When I get back to Paris I'll do my best to go and give moraml support to underdog Rog.