I finally infiltrated the corporate prison last night. The first day that I reached London, G didn't want me to come up as it was in the middle of a busy working day. For the last 3 days my backpack had been lying upstairs somewhere as we were too lazy to take it out and bring it back home. I'd been living out of my emergency backpack (which I carry in case my check-in baggage gets lost) and I had a 3 day supply of T-shirts and underwear. By Friday I'd reached the end of my supplies so we'd decided to pick up my bigger backpack later on.
We went out to another pub on Fleet street on Friday and after 5-6 pints G was sufficiently drunk. Went back to the prison at 1130 to pick it up and since he was pretty drunk managed to convince him to take me up. The security guard took my picture, name and gave me a special card. Clearing immigration at Heathrow was much easier. Went up and there were still a couple of people working with a clock showing the time in New York, London, Tokyo, Hong Kong and Frankfurt (apparently that's the hierarchy of the top financial cities of the world). A vast sea of cubicles, computers and desks was all I could make out. Since it wasn't crowded we made quite a noise there and I insisted on sitting on his desk with my feet up. Fooled around there like my brothers and I used to as 10 yr old kids in my father's office sometimes. 20 years later things haven't changed too much.