Westminster Bridge. What is it with women stripping off on Westminster Bridge? The Houses of Parliament and the surprised tourists were obviously too tempting.

York Road on the South Bank is one of those streets that are always in shade—lousy cold in winter, wonderful in summer. We fizz along past the Shell building and out onto Waterloo Bridge. Another favorite stripping off point with people lining up on the pavement to get photos taken buck naked against a backdrop of London beyond the Thames and a few startled-looking tourists. Now comes the hard bit—Covent Garden and Charing Cross Road. The streets are narrow and packed with shoppers, so the pace slows again to walking pace and a frequent standstill. I’ve got a name now, “Monkey,” and people are making monkey hoots and being very supportive but I am sweltering in the acrylic fur suit and there is no air when we stand still. Ribald banana jokes float about. I’m just wishing to take it off. But Covent Garden also brings laughs and coble streets that make everything visible jiggle. Charing Cross Road has construction, congestion and a long standstill at Seven Dials where a kind young man hands me a promotional litre of flavoured mineral water, which I drink without stopping. Without this I was surely in for an almighty headache. Last year on Charing Cross Road I saw a policemen crash his bike because he was ogling a particularly fulsome lady. No such luck today, we’re hardly moving. But on Oxford Street, despite the narrowness of it, we float along. Naked cyclists kiss the windows of busses while giggle-frozen teenagers inside show gapes full of bubblegum and wide eyes.