The line approaching The Breakfast Club was overwhelmingly Gen X or Y. Whatever, we were in the minority. Dark clouds started to drizzle as we made the sheltering doorway leading into one of London's culinary hotspots. Erin had hinted this was a great place to have brunch, and she was spot on!
Pulled pork burgers and major glasses of Bloody Mary's were favoured, and with good reason ~ they were worth the wait. A small squadron of obliging waitresses buzz about delivering dishes to chattering crowded tables. We hadn't spotted any celebrities as yet, but as we were new to London, they may have been present. A dead ringer for Harold sat adjacent at a multicultural table and licked his knife in appreciation ~ I imagine Kumar was searching for a White Castle outlet.*
Public displays of lascivious behaviour were on display nearby at Old Spitalfields Market, where engaging couples tangoed sensuously. Beguiled, I hurried to catch up with the others who had moved on for some retail therapy. "Not so fast, I want to look in here!". A smart display of bespoke clothing lured me into a shop where a young man commented favourably on my shirt ~ "That's a nice piece of tailoring, Sir". They're crafty, these London merchants, they lure unsuspecting people into their establishments with compliments and try to sell you something. "Thanks", I replied, " I had it made in Hong Kong". We engaged in some sartorial banter for a while, before Kim came back and dragged me away. "I'll be back" ~ "I'll look forward to that Sir".
Erin and Penny had hidden themselves amongst the racks of clothing and accessories crowding the Market floor, and we discovered them examining jewellery at a stall adjacent to another selling
headwear. I tried on a genuine Sherlock Holmes deerstalker in a fetching rural hue, and was just about to tie the earmuffs down when Kim threatened me with divorce if I proceeded. She's such a party-pooper!. Agreeing on a time and place, we split up and headed off to pursue our whims.
Despite some serious culling of our holiday wardrobe, we are closing on our baggage limit and careful thought must be given to any additional purchases. I kept this in mind as I resisted appealing hand-printed pop art t-shirts, vintage doorknobs and books at bargain prices. What willpower I possess. The second hand ticked slowly on a collectable Kinks single converted into a wall clock. "But that's on the Pye label!" I protested. "I wish I had a pound for every time someone said that", replied the surly young stall holder. I believe he needs re-training, ..... and a good horse whipping.
Exiting the tube at Embankment, Erin directed us across the Golden Jubilee Bridge towards the concluding Festival of Love, just as the Tour of Britain peloton flashed by. A cockney photographer barked instructions at a generously proportioned wedding couple who parted the milling crowd as they walked the bridge. At the base of the bridge's supporting piers an elephant's graveyard of discarded skateboard decks and plimsolls contrasted markedly with the bride's flouncy organza.
A tattooed and pierced spruiker earnestly encouraged passers-by to a freak show ~ "Only six quid, Ladies and Gentlemen!." Who would want to pay for a spectacle when every corner held a surprise?. Londoners, fearful of the impending Monday, cheerfully headed for another bevy at the revolving carousel located next to the Spiegeltent in the London Wonder Ground. They were joined by others giddy from riding the adjacent Star Flyer. Pakistani carneys cried that no one's weekend would be complete without taking home a cuddly toy. Come and enjoy this panoply of oddities, curiosities and delights!
* Harold and Kumar Go To White Castle
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