Belgian chocolates, waffles and a terrorist

It’s Friday, 5.56pm and my missus phones me to make sure I’ll be finishing work in exactly 4 minutes. Vicky’s never this keen, but its my birthday and she’s organised some mystery activities, apparently. First stop was supposed to be some bar near King’s Cross St Pancras station. She said to meet by some guy… Continue reading Belgian chocolates, waffles and a terrorist