Fryent Country Park to Watford, 10/02/24


Picking up the course of the K-Line at Fryent Country Park, I’m joined for this leg of the journey by school friend, painter and musician Seb Wyatt. He’s well informed on all things psychogeographical and will prove to have a valuable second set of eyes on today’s walk.


Waling up Fryent Lane, we discover fresh water coursing down the pavement, the heavy rains of the previous week causing a natural spring to overflow. While part of the western side of the park was planted in the 18th century, the eastern side features hedgerows and meadows that date back to medieval times. This ancient agricultural use and the presence of the springs show just how historically fertile the path of the K-Line is.


After a short wander through the boggy fields, we re-join Fryent Lane, heading north into Kingsbury, then west down Kenton Road. The K-Line passes through dozens of suburban houses and gardens around here, so we keep it as close as possibly by cutting up Shrewsbury Avenue and the narrow and winding Glebe Avenue.


On Streatfield Road I pick up some walking fuel in the Londis: a chicken and mayo sandwich, a lamb samosa, some Maoam chews and bottle of Rubicon fruit juice. Seb is getting the impression my diet hasn’t changed much since school. He’s right.


Turning up Culver Road we pass Centenary Park, “The Home of 6-a-side Football”, although curiously for a Saturday afternoon we can’t see anyone playing. We carry on zig-zagging west and north and find ourselves on Wetherall Drive (“Fail we may, sail we must” as Andy Weatherall had it, another useful motto for us).


Weston Drive takes us to Belmont Circle, one of those numerous 1930s shopping parades and roundabouts that speckle Greater London. On Beverly Gardens, a bobby on the beat breaks from his chat with a local resident and a woman from the Salvation Army to bid us good morning, although his friendliness disguises his concern at seeing two muddy blokes with rucksacks so out of place among the fine houses and smart cars we’re passing.


Starting to tire of suburbia, we thankfully reach Belmont Hill. A narrow footpath buried in damp leaves takes us up and over Stanmore Golf Club, although again we see nobody playing. There are glimpses of an excellent view back south, however. A pair of Egyptian geese are frolicking on the fairway and a ring-necked parakeet poses tamely on the branches above us.


The footpath exits onto Gordon Avenue and by far the most well to do houses we’ve encountered yet. I consider tying a K-Line Notice to a lamppost but then remember our friendly policeman and think better of it. Meanwhile, Seb clocks we’re passing Drummond Drive. There’s several Drummonds in my Philips Street Atlas of London but no Cautys. At least, not yet.


Entering Kenton Lane near The Seven pub, we recognise that we’re passing through an old village, still part of the London sprawl but a sign that the urban city is now fragmenting, green spaces, woods and commons opening up ahead of us.


Clamp Hill begins our ascent to the high ridge above north London. Warming up with the climb, I’m down to my K2 Plant Hire t-shirt. A black car powers downhill towards us, shouting something quite possibly KLF related out the window as it zooms past. We’re unable to make out what’s being sung but if that was you driving, tick off a box in your i-Spy Book Of The K-Line.


Higher and higher we go, stepping off Common Road for the wooded shade of adjacent Harrow Weald Common. Someone’s dumped a fairly new looking fridge freezer down the bank, somewhat carelessly even for a fly-tipper as Seb realises that they’ve left the compressor attached. Scrap metal merchants, take note, there’s copper in them there hills.


We emerge at the top of the woods and take Hive Road onto Bushey High Road, running parallel to the K-Line. On our left, some mighty electricity pylons stand on Larken Drive. To the south, they stretch towards the spot where the K-Line and the National Grid first intersect. Checking our Ordnance Survey map, we trace the transmission line to the north, where it reaches the huge substation on Hilfield Lane, right beside the M1 bridge that The JAMs painted their ‘It’s Grim Up North’ graffiti on.


This is too much of a coincidence. Has the UK government been stealing energy from the K-Line all this time? Determined to investigate, we race downhill through Bushey, ignoring the rain showers, before turning right onto Falconer Road just before the K-Line crosses the High Street.


Up Finch Lane we go, past the former Royal Masonic School For Boys and onto the sodden footpaths across Bushey Manor Fields. An RAF Bomber crashed here during a training exercise in 1943, killing its crew of five. A plaque commemorates the dead.


Further across the field, a tall telephone mast stands alone, conspicuously camouflaged as a tree. Skirting the Jewish Cemetery we squeeze past the traffic backed-up on Sandy Lane, dodge our way across the busy A41 and locate the It’s Grim Up North bridge.


Directly in front of us, the electricity substation crackles malevolently, keeping its secrets behind unsurmountable fencing. We stare and wonder but there’s nothing we can do.


Starting down the lane, right next to the substation is the Dharam Marg turning, leading to the mock Tudor country house donated, as Seb suddenly remembered, by George Harrison to the Hare Krishna movement. A Beatles connection then. All You Need Is Love? Maybe George was on a mission to counter the draining of the K-Line energy. Good old George.


We pass a Second World War pillbox and reach Patchett’s Green, stopping off for a pint to mull over this afternoon’s discoveries. This is clearly a major site of K-Line related interest. A visit to our Hare Krishna friends at Bhaktivedanta Manor will need to be arranged.


Decision made, we take a more leisurely walk down Aldenham Lane, catching up with the K-Line’s course at the bottom of Bushey Hall Lane where it crosses the flooded River Colne. Abandoned shopping trolleys bob around helplessly.


Edging around the shopping centre ring road on our way to Watford Junction, we pass a skate park. There’s no-one skateboarding. There’s no-one at all. Where the hell is everybody?

Stuart Huggett




GPS: 51.7971840, -0.5909310

COSTS: Free entry 


TRANSPORT LINKS: From Tring, take the 387 Aldbury bus for five stops and get off at Pond. The Tuning Fork Tree is then a 23 minute walk through the Ashridge Estate.

The Tuning Fork Tree is a K-LINE HOTSPOT, marking the precise point where the district line to Stonehenge meets The K-LINE mainline. From Aldbury, Toms Hill Road winds its way through the woods of the Ashridge Estate. After a sharp left turn in the road, there is a parking area on your right. The Tuning Fork Tree is on the opposite side of the road, 23 metres off the beaten track, close to the Outwood Kiln Cottages. As I approached the tree the chirping of the birds faded away to reveal a deep, slowly oscillating tone, a clear signifier of the K-LINE drawing power from Stonehenge. My phone made the sound of a cable being attached and it was then I knew I had tapped into something incredible. To help to guide future KONDUCTORS, I left my tag and returned home, jolted awake and ready for more. 


It is a bright Sunday morning and the riverside is thronging with joggers and cyclists. Weaving past them I cross at the lights and head up Chelsea Bridge Road. I catch a fragment of Pelé Cox’s cut and pasted poem that stretches around the walls of the flats of One Grenadier Gardens on my right: “CAST OUT THE BIRDS / SING LET ME LEAF / I AM THE GREEN MAN”. These snatches may serve me well on this traipse across England. Cast out the birds, motherfuckers!


The K-Line cuts across my path as I negotiate the roadworks around Sloane Square. Heading up Sloane Street, everyone is wearing designer shades against the not exactly overpowering glare of the winter sun, even the toddlers in their pushchairs.


Turning left down past the grand red townhouses of Pont Street, the K-Line passes through the imposing Scottish Presbyterian church of St Columba’s on the corner ahead, as I bend into Beauchamp Place.


A café has caught fire, the staff standing outside on the pavement while the fire fighters deal with the smoke. Across the street, The Map House shop is closed on Sundays so I’m unable to browse the antique maps within. It’s been trading since 1907. In another 100 years it could be selling vintage maps of the K-Line too.


Crossing Brompton Road, I enter some of the narrow side streets of South Kensington, catching a glimpse of Brompton Oratory as I track through Montpelier Street and Trevor Place towards the southern edge of Hyde Park.


I enter, as the K-Line does, by the Prince Of Wales Gate and dawdle along the paths of Kensington Gardens, flocks of geese and screaming parakeets passing overhead. I don’t remember this many parakeets in London 20 years ago so I assume they’re still breeding, multiplying and expanding their range outwards. I wonder how far they’ve spread their range now. Maybe I’ll find out.


I leave the park on the north side opposite J. M. Barrie’s house on Lenister Terrace. “Second star to the right, and straight on ‘til morning” is as good a guide to following the K-Line as any.


From Lenister Gardens I wriggle through the back streets of Bayswater, across Bishop’s Bridge Road, past Porchester Hall and over the metal bridge by Royal Oak tube station. Pan Sonic’s remix on the ‘Fuck The Millennium’ 12” was the ‘Royal Oak Mix’. Synchronicity at work.


Under the Westway I go, and so does the K-Line. I follow the weave of Harrow Road westwards through Maida Hill until it curves to the north at the intersection of the K-Line and Elgin Avenue, a reminder I’m currently in Joe Strummer’s old territory.


I take a right turn at Third Avenue, to catch the K-Line again as it cuts the corner of Queens Park Gardens. There’s not much to see in this little residential park until you climb the small grassy mound in its centre and catch the view south to Trellick Tower, rising above the rooftops.


Carrying on along Ilbert Street, I re-join the bustle of west London on Chamberlayne Road. Ahead of me on the right is Moberly Sports Centre, the name chiming with that of artist and frequent Bill Drummond collaborator Tracy Moberly.


Once across the railway lines at Kensal Rise tube, Chamberlayne Road becomes more suburban as it extends northwest. I take a left at Chambers Lane, a sudden rise and fall in the road affording a pleasant view across Gladstone Park and Dollis Hill.


Getting back into the bustle of Willesden Green High Road, I press on. A sculpture on the intersection of the High Road with Dudden Hill Lane features the four points of the compass embedded into the pavement. I take it as a sign that my quest is valid.


Following Dudden Hill Lane, I pass the plaque commemorating young PC Ronan McCloskey, killed by a car in 1987 while attempting to breathalyse its driver. I press on past the College Of North West London, past the mural celebrating the heroism of the Grunwick Film Processing Lab strike, and on into Neasden.


On Neasden Roundabout, the K-Line crosses The Grange, a 300 year old building available to rent for social events, so an ideal space for future KLF Re-enactment Society konferences. The arch of Wembley Stadium stretches across the sky in the west.


I pause to admire the imposing Bob Marley mural by Mr Cenz on the Laundercentre on Birse Crescent. In 1972 Bob and The Wailers lived nearby on The Circle, as they began to establish themselves in the UK. The Wailers’ debut British gig took place on 16th July that year, supporting Johnny Nash at Bexhill’s De La Warr Pavilion, and coincidentally Jimmy Cauty’s ADP World Riot Tour has arrived at the De La Warr this same weekend.


Ducking below the North Circular through Neasden Subway, I emerge on Neasden Lane. Continuing northwest I cross the River Brent, then onto Salmon Street and up into Fryent Country Park. A pair of green parakeets scream a welcome to me.


Walking through London from centre to edgelands today has seen me cross the whole social strata of the city, from the nouveau riche Made In Chelsea set to the “strikers in saris” of the Grunwick Strike. It’s becoming apparent that justified synchronicities are continuing to appear too. The Lost K-Line Of Mu evidently has more surprises in store.


Stuart Huggett




GPS: 51.504484 -0.175100

COSTS: Free entry between 6am and dusk.

YOU TUBE LINK: https://youtu.be/vkKGDsLEmrM?si=cvSir_z7CKzL1eH6

TRANSPORT LINKS: London Underground stations Lancaster Gate, Marble Arch, Hyde Park Corner and Knightsbridge all lie next to the parks.

The largest open space in central London, the twin Royal Parks of Kensington Gardens and Hyde Park are evenly bisected by the K-Line. To follow the K-Line through the parks, enter at the Prince Of Wales Gate on the south side and track it as it cuts through the Serpentine Gallery, past the Physical Energy Statue on Lancaster Walk and out of the north side opposite the blue plaque to ‘Peter Pan’ author J. M. Barrie on Lenister Gardens. Having been open to the public for hundreds of years, everyone surely knows something about Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens, whether it’s the big open air concerts (Bill Drummond has written about attending the famous 1969 Rolling Stones gig there and leaving before the end https://thequietus.com/articles/31955-corrugated-iron-bill-drummond-david-keenan-john-higgs), the Albert Memorial, the Serpentine (wild swimming is available), Speaker’s Corner or the Diana Memorial Fountain (the Princess Of Wales has her own posthumous connection to the The KLF, after their Barbican concert comeback as 2K was postponed following her death). Being honest, outside of the summer months the parks can be a bit flat and drab, but there’s always the parakeets. 


Dear Otherman


Following its unearthing last year by diligent members of The KLF Re-enactment Society I must admit that I’m finding myself drawn ever deeper into studying the mysteries of the Lost K-Line Of Mu.


Last October I began my investigations on foot, following its assumed origin at Trancentral in Stockwell, northwards until I reached the River Thames, and uncovering some interesting synchronicities on the way.


By the time Christmas was drawing near, the true course of the K-Line had finally been discovered and plotted. I had the sensation that Time Was Running In so, using public transport, I made a few quick stops at potential points of interest across north London until I reached the Hertfordshire countryside. The New Year turned, the world kept spinning, and the greater lengths of the K-Line remain unstudied.


Now I’m very much in favour of fellow society members exploring the length of the line by whatever means possible, whether driving the nearest motorways, A and B roads, suburban avenues and leafy lanes, criss-crossing the country by public bus or taking the nearest adjacent rail journeys. I hope that they do and that we may read about their discoveries on the KLFRS website.


But I now feel my calling is to track the line’s entire 180 mile length on foot. I’m hoping to achieve this journey, south to north, from London to Liverpool, Thames to Mersey, before 2024 reaches its conclusion. Hopefully by 23rd November, all being well.


On some stretches I will be accompanied by friends and fellow members of The KLFRS. Other times I must travel alone, looking for Tags and Signs that signify I am True To The Trail.


First, I will pick up my pedestrian wanderings where I left off back in October. On the north bank of the Thames, opposite Battersea Power Station. A few short walks will take me out through London and into the Home Counties. After that I’m beyond the familiar territory of my youth and heading deep into the heart of England, through farms and fields only hitherto glimpsed from the windows of speeding trains and crawling motorway traffic.


I may not succeed in reaching my target. I do think it’s achievable though. Whatever happens, I will be submitting my findings to The KLFRS, every step of the way.


After all, these boots were made for walking.



Stuart Huggett



Dear Tillerman


Well thanks (kind of) for having me and Tommy lead that walking tour on the 23rd. I suppose I got what I asked for.

Thought I should give a summary here of what occurred for anyone who missed our expedition to the Lost K-Line of Mu.


As we set off from the Florrie, Tommy began by asking ‘What is the K-Line? Does anyone know?’


I explained that, in simple but slightly misleading terms, it’s basically the KLF’s ley-line, and then I had to explain what ley-lines are. So I used examples referring to Avebury, Stonehenge and Glastonbury Tor, all the subject of early studies by Jimmy Cauty…


I figured the next thing to do was give some examples of nearby K-related sites which are all bang on the line. Some of these have already been identified by people writing to this page, like Liverpool’s Anglican Cathedral and St James's Necropolis, the Blackie and the Matthew Street manhole cover, of course.


But I think I’m the first one to point out that the site of the 2017 Rites of Mumufication is also bang on the line. And I don’t think anyone has noticed before that the boundary of the Bluecoat is bang on the K-Line too. This is the site where Bill Drummond bill-posted the complete text of his account of the Matthew Street manhole cover and the interstellar ley-line. 

The ruined neolithic earthwork on the edge of John Lennon Airport has already been noted here, but just before it reaches the Bund, the K-Line cuts through Shipping Containers of Liverpool…

Someone asked ‘how long is the K-Line?’


’180 Miles’


How do you know?


’Well…Google Maps.’


This provoked much laughter and I realised some of these people thought I was just taking the piss. As if!


I pressed on regardless. They’d soon realise the seriousness of this affair when we arrived at Tony’s Pound Shop. 

I began to list the numerous K-related sites which my own ongoing research had uncovered. I figured that the surprising number of these would help to persuade any doubters. There really are just too many of them, in too perfect an alignment (the K-Line as plotted on the Google Map I’ve been using is a mere 1 metre wide) for this to be explained away as a coincidence. 

Tommy asked if there was any evidence of extra-terrestrial involvement in the K-Line. I answered truthfully that whilst some of the more maverick scholars have hypothesised an ancient alien origin, I was personally unconvinced by this. 

But there is a plethora of other Fortean activity out there on the K-Line waiting to be discovered. I told them all, for example, about what occurred at the line’s dead centre. It’s an otherwise unremarkable field, with a line made by walking, cutting a path across it diagonally and marking the midpoint of the K-Line. An otherwise unremarkable spot where it has been known, well-evidenced and widely reported to have rained apples. Yes, that’s right - apples…


I gave a few examples of some of the early, well-known Jams graffiti slogans, which were all on the K-Line, and then one of the pilgrims asked “But what’s it for? What’s its purpose?”


And that is real the question. And it’s one that I think I’m now able to answer. 


“The K-Line will be the official energy supplier powering the KLF’s 2323 World Tour. 300 years from now, this is how gigs will be legally obliged to operate, following legal changes to be brought in during negotiations around the annexation of Wigan Casino.”


We were drawing close to the K-Line now. As we passed Madryn Street one of the pilgrims drew our attention to a small, KLF graffiti tag on the street sign proclaiming simply “300 years”. It was somewhat faded and weathered now, having clearly been there for a while.


I explained that, some of the K-Line’s early-adopters have been travelling up and down its length leaving tags like this one, or repositioning traffic cones. These and other “Marks of Mu”, it is believed, will help to “re-kover” or “re-konnect” the K-Line; to get it up and running in time for the 2323 World Tour. 

We were very close to the point where our route crosses the K-Line. I drew everyone’s attention to the Yellow Submarine-themed mural behind us on the other side of the road.


“This close to the K-Line, it is not unusual for there to be some psycho-geographic slippage - for its influence to leak out causing subliminal and subconscious signs of its presence in the local area. I mean, that might’ve been any number painted onto the chest of that Blue Meanie…”


It was time to reveal the Google map of the K-Line to the pilgrims. It was a bit of a “wow, far-out moment” understandably. “180 Miles exactly end to end” one of them remarked, checking it carefully, which caught the attention of Tommy. 

“I’ve just realised what that means!” Exclaimed Tommy as he scrolled through his phone searching for a picture he’d taken at Penny Lane a few weeks earlier. It showed the familiar street sign accompanied by a graffiti tag simply and enigmatically stating “180 miles”.

Finally we reached Tony’s Pound Shop and the point where the K-Line passes through. And there, just outside the shop was a repositioned traffic cone bearing a freshly-applied KLF sticker with a QR code giving access to the 2023 Triptych. (The 2023 Triptych, by the way, prominently features anther corner shop, bang on the opposite end of the K-Line as a sort of London mirror to Tony’s here in Toxteth.)


The pilgrims eagerly scanned the QR code, and a few others popped into Tony’s for a Kit-Kat. Then, pausing only for a group photo at the Ringo mural, we set-off back to the Florrie

Further secrets were revealed on our return journey, and several of the pilgrims announced new points of interest that they’d just discovered whilst scrolling the map themselves. But I cannot reveal any of that here. It is for others now to share their findings on the K-Line…


…but I will write again soon. Not unreasonably, you might be wondering how it is that I came to discover all this stuff.


Well, that’s an interesting story. And I’ll tell it to you next time…



Gary Aster



The Northwest Passage

The day began at 9: A.M. sharp with breakfast at the Shepherdess Café on the City Road. Three travellers known as The Three Shepherdesses are due to meet here for the first time tomorrow evening and I wanted to check that the venue was set.

All seemed well so after I’d drunk my coffee I stepped outside and leant on a pillar box to think about the day ahead. Mister Fox trotted up and told me the Saturday market over in Golborne Road was worth a visit. He used to frequent E. Price & Sons greengrocers there while it was still open, the fruit and veg attracting curious and foolish prey for his voracious appetite.

I ask him how things are going with Tangerine NiteMare. Pretty good, he reckons. They’re all looking forward to the Christmas Top Of The Pops. I wish him luck and we part.

Hopping on the Hammersmith & City line at Old Street, I get off at Ladbroke Grove. Sure enough, E. Price & Sons is now a fashion shop called simply The Store. I’m paying more interest to the heaps of scuffed LPs for sale on the pavement outside when I spot Dead Squirrel lying in the gutter. He’s on his way to Hyde Park to hang out with his living brothers and sisters while they forage for nuts. I remember Alf Kromer’s Letter For Tillerman discussing the path of The K-Line through the park so decide to make my own way there.

Dead Squirrel says he’ll look out for me later but to have a Merry Christmas if we miss each other. I wish him luck with Tangerine NiteMare and head off.

Getting back on the Hammersmith & City line at Ladbroke Grove I continue a few more stops to Wood Lane, then walk the couple of hundred metres up the road to White City station, passing BBC Television Centre on my left. In one of the countless offices inside, the producer of Top Of The Pops is still trying to work out how on earth to fit all of the booked artists into the studio for the Christmas Day edition. Her Floor Manager is threatening to walk out too.

I catch the Central Line to Lancaster Gate and head into Hyde Park, wandering along the Serpentine and watching the wildlife. Reaching the Serpentine Gallery I sit down for a rest. Several tourists are standing stock still, pointing towards the Physical Energy statue in the centre of the park. It must be featuring again in the London guide books, I suppose.

A lone Crow flies overhead, following the direction of the tourists’ pointed fingers in the path of The K-Line. I know I must go on.

Back on the Central Line I travel from Lancaster Gate to Bond Street, then get on the northbound Jubilee Line. This London Underground line follows The K-Line very closely at times. Indeed, when we reach Dollis Hill, where the Jubilee Line and K-Line cross, I spot many travellers on the opposite platform standing still and pointing up the line. From inside my carriage, I can’t see whatever it is they see.

Slightly disconcerted I stay on the train and don’t disembark until Kingsbury, where The K-Line passes through the middle of nearby Fryent Country Park. I make my way down Fryent Lane to the Country Park’s car park to explore but the surrounding fields are very wet, mud rising over my trainers, threatening to literally bog me down.

A dog walker stands in the middle of the nearest field, pointing northwest towards Hertfordshire. The lone Crow flies overhead. 

I must continue.

Heading back into the city on the Jubilee Line I get out at Euston Square, cross into Euston station itself and catch an Overground train to the familiar orange slab of Watford Junction. Among the bus stops outside stands a purple double decker in Harry Potter livery, waiting to take dozens of tourists to the Studio Tour across town. Instead of getting on the bus, however, they’re standing still and pointing northwest, somewhere in the direction of the Studios. The lone Crow flies overhead. And still, I must follow.

The train out of Watford Junction follows the path of the Crow, breaking the boundaries of the M25 and delivering me to Hemel Hempstead. I traipse across the fields of Box Moor until I reach The Three Horseshoes at Bourne End. A small cloud passes between me and the sun.

The pub lies by the Grand Union Canal and I think back to poor John Lennon (not that one) whose body was fished out of the Lee Navigation at Hackney Wake back in April. I wonder how Christmas is going for the two women sentenced for his murder. It’s been a strange business.

On the bridge across the canal, two men dressed in black wearing black top hats are standing still, pointing up the canal in the direction of Birmingham. The lone Crow swoops down from above, landing on the bridge’s railings, which brings the two figures out of their reverie. They head inside the pub.

Crow tells me I’ve followed him along The K-Line for long enough today and can start heading home. I wish him luck with Tangerine NiteMare and start walking along the towpath of the Grand Union Canal back into town.

Suddenly, a vivid blue bullet shoots into view from my left, like a premonition. I stop and stare.

It’s the first Kingfisher I’ve ever seen.

Agent Huggett


Agent Love, reporting for duty. I knew the Time for Love would come. Whatever else you can justifiably say about The KLFRS, they certainly have long memories and an effective debt recovery operation.

So the K-Line had been uncovered, that much we knew.  From the events of 23rd November in Liverpool it was clear that The KLFRS were on to something, but what exactly?  When the call came through requesting operational support in the southern quadrant I couldn’t refuse.  This was my territory and duty called.

I approached the origin of the K-Line from the southern aspect, cautious of what lie ahead. If, as is sometimes rumoured, the K-Line extends southwards then it also bisects the Brixton Academy, site of one of the earliest KLF performance in 1989, immediately before they fled to Chipping Norton, perhaps along this very road.

Despite having lived nearby for 23 years, I had never needed to walk down Jeffreys Road before. I could feel I was close to the source, and nearly walked by, but a melody from a past life pulled me back and I stopped outside number 55.  All the fives, five alive, fives rule.

I adorned a conveniently located sign with the designated markings, and became lost in my mind as I contemplated the energies that had poured outwards from here. Could they all really have flowed down the K-Line?  Or could they have flowed elsewhere too? Although it seemed a long time ago, surely the signs would still be there if I looked hard enough.

As I reflected, and followed the line northwest from its squat party origins, it took me towards Larkhall Park.  Stockwell residents Jerry Dammers, Joanna Lumley and Adam Buxton would doubtless have spent time here chilling out to Chill Out and raving to Stadium House, so I marked the spot.

Continuing northwest through the park, along the K-line led me past Courland Grove (formerly Zion Hill) Baptist Church that, as far as I could tell, had no KLF connections whatsoever. Very suspicious. I marked the spot accordingly.

Leaving the park, and following the K-Line through tangled streets led me towards Nine Elms Market, and then to Covent Garden Flower Market where finally my patience was rewarded

This sign was almost too blatant, and the arrow pointing the wrong way was a dead giveaway - someone had been here before me and was trying to throw me off the scent. I decided not to play their game and left the fnord unmarked as though it were unseen - the only rational response. But the attempted distraction meant I must be close, else why bother?

I turned around, and after a short distance spotted the eye in the pyramid. This was too easy.

As I approached the source of the power the scale of the task became clear. A standing stone already marked the exact spot where the K-Line entered Battersea Power Station, immortalised by Pink Floyd, immanentised by The Orb (minus Jimmy), and now to be occupied by a less than golden Apple. Of course, it was all becoming clear, this was the spot, and it needed to be marked. And so it was.

Approaching the point where the K-Line meets The Thames, and forever leaves my territory for the perpetual grimness of North London, I looked back towards Trancentral and felt the power surge through me towards Mathew St.  My debt to The KLFRS was settled. For now.

Or so I thought. My curiosity about what might lay inside was piqued.  I descended the stairs and located the path of the K-Line through a bookshop.  Only it was selling bricks, not books, and for 55 pounds (not 99). 

All the fives, five alive. 2 plus 3 equals what the fuuk is going on?