Wandering London, impecunious, deluded that I was a flaneur, I packed my camera, a bottle of water, perhaps a sandwich, an Oyster card, a map, and something to read on the tubefor a day of wandering. My curfew was to be back in Queens Park by 3 PM to pickup my kids from primary school (the only white man in a sea of berkas). As a point of prideful asceticism, I took a private vow not to spend a nickel on my wanders, or to perhaps indulge in a candy bar.