The place where I'll leave my mark may be here, in the form of this blog where I've chipped away entry after entry; or it could be Holland Park, in the form of a bench.

I love Holland Park. Acres of restorative gardens, lawns and woodland; it's a sanctuary, a place of well-being, an escape from the madhouse London inferno. I literally bathe myself in the wonderful splashes of greens and yellows, the fiery hearted flowers, the bird-song; and the air is always cool - hedgerow cool.

I've been there this evening for a few hours, idly reading, occasionally listening to fragments of opera floating away from the pavilion, and just taking in quiet lungfuls of healing air.

Then a slow walk to the Kyoto gardens, a manicured and intensely symbolic Japanese style garden. There's a small pond there, where I once saw a stately and inscrutable Heron standing one-legged oblivious to the melee of people passing by. Today there was hardly anyone there, just a solitary moorhen, a handful of tourists and the shoal of carp patrolling the pond.

Perfect relaxation after you guessed it - a hard day on the phone.