The highlight was probably stumbling across a very exciting film set in the "deserted for the weekend' financial district. We watched them busily simulating rain by spraying the pavement with ferocious intent (something a squatting pit bull I'd seen earlier could have assisted them with no end), and we oohed in all the right places when a man in pyjamas came onto the set and began talking with other men about the crane above them. We tried to edge closer to see what was going on but were coughed at politely until we kept a safe distance...the mystery was building.
We lingered for as long as was Englishly polite before deciding to move along and continue on our hunt for the Gherkin (also deserted, Saturday's are not buzzing). We wandered past bus after bus sitting dormant waiting for the hungry extras to throng down the aisles in search of soup. We meandered through trucks of equipment and we had just made our way safely out the other end when curiosity got the better of us.
We just had to know what Hollywood, or better still Bollywood, film set we had discovered nestling in the deserted streets. We had to quench that dry tickling thirst for knowledge, the knowledge of which Pitt or Jolie, which Clooney or Law, which Smith or Wesson would be treading the boards close by to the very place we were standing.
We plucked up the courage, we swallowed our desire to seem unimpressed, we found the nearest catering man. We asked...
"It's a Dutch advert for erectile dysfunction"
Everybody gets their 15 minutes somehow.