This is Hull and East Riding --Walking through Soho close to midnight with my ginned-up mother is not something I ever imagined doing.
Doing it while 28 weeks pregnant definitely wasn't on my wish list.
"Babymoons"– the last break before baby arrives – are becoming increasingly popular (another craze imported from the States, possibly on the same boat as "baby showers").
But while my pregnant friends are enjoying "babymoons" with partners in places such as the Cotswolds and even California, I was packed off to The Big Smoke with June.
The trip was the brainchild of my brother, David, who had agreed with my other brother that mum deserved a treat after beating cancer.
Realising there was just a small window before I became too fat to do it, thus shifting the responsibility on to him, he booked our tickets before I had the chance to say no.
With its hustle, bustle and reputation for ignorant commuters, London was the last place I thought I'd take the bump. But from the moment we first emerged from Tower Hill tube station to our return to Kings Cross for the journey home, we discovered a helpfulness that totally smashed our expectations.
Seeing my mum struggling to lift her case down the tube station steps, a kindly local offered to carry them for her. He then clocked my bump and offered to do the same for me.
We had hardly left the station when we then took a wrong turn and, ignoring the "Do Not Enter" signs ended up in the Royal Mint.
A postman who was at the opposite end of the courtyard saw our lost expressions and walked over to help.
Of course, I cannot be sure whether this was down to the bump or the simple look on my mum's face, but for the purpose of this column I will presume it's the former.
This friendly theme continued throughout our stay. However, it was most revealing on the rush-hour tube.
While I'd initially feared my protruding tummy would get bashed about by briefcases, instead, people got up from their seats to offer me their places. I suspect this had a lot to do with the blue signs positioned around the carriage, stating "priority seat for people who are disabled, pregnant or less able to stand".
I found it quite amusing that pregnant women are given the same treatment as the infirm, which blows a raspberry to all those helpful people who remind you "pregnancy is not a disease" when you complain of a sore back or migraine.
In fact, the only person who seemed oblivious to my "condition" was mum, who didn't show any remorse and downed her gin while I sipped fizzy water. This made her almost unbearable, particularly during the aforementioned Soho trip when she proceeded to plant herself outside G-A-Y and ask: "Do you have to be gay to come in here?" And as I topped up my calcium levels with a litre of malted milkshake in Ed's Diner, she nearly fell off her stool.
Aside from the overwhelming chivalry, London also has an abundance of fabulous food and Borough Market is a must-visit.
So, after two days in the capital, I'd recommend it for any pregnant woman. But it's probably best if you leave your party-animal relatives at home. Reported by This is 18 hours ago.