It's official, autumn in Europe has been postponed. I'm thinking of writing a letter to the French and British governments to complain that I am lugging around unworn winter woollies. I am also tempted to follow the path of many other compatriots and wear our national dress of shorts and thongs. Whilst awaiting service on Eurostar standing next to a young bloke in boardies and Ripcurl t-shirt, the bar attendant picked our nationality before we opened our mouths. Aussies are everywhere!
We made arrangements to meet Chris and Paulette in Notting Hill for lunch in Portobello Road, and having negotiated the combative antique dealers and boutiques, popped into The Castle pub. Having previously suffered only minor damage to our wallets en route, we commenced to expend some serious money on food and drink. A round of 2 large white wines, a double G&T and 2 pints of ale left only change from £30. Fish and chips with mushy peas was a further £11.99 per serve. London ain't cheap!
You made a good decision coming here on Friday said the shopgirl in Ben Sherman, Tomorrow will be manic here!. That's true, everyday street traffic in London is heavy and as the weekend approaches even heavier, as evident by the Regent Street crowd as we emerged from Oxford Circus tube station. Let's go to Liberty, said Paulette, worrying her bank manager even more. If you are intent on some classy retail therapy, Liberty is the place to go. Tricked up to resemble a Victorian era establishment, customers can spend thousands of pounds, or only £2.50 on toast tongs as we did!. Every home should have a pair.
Chris' London travel app indicated we were only minutes from Carnaby Street, one of my bucket list entries. Friday night drinkers spilt out of crowded pubs onto the roadway, as we passed under the sign announcing our arrival in Swinging London. To be frank, it was a bit of a disappointment, with half the street occupied by fast food shops. Shopping bags proclaimed Pret a Manger and EE rather than I Was Lord Kitchener's Valet.
Developing a thirst, we pressed on through the crowds milling around Leicester Square and London's theatre heart near Covent Garden. By-passing Chinatown and various casinos, we headed along Charing Cross Road, intently searching for number 44, and into Jambon Jambon, a tapas bar. I was quite impressed, having been in Spain in the past month as the Patatas bravas, chillies and tortilla match those I had previously enjoyed.
Replete, we farewell Chris and Paulette hopping aboard the 87 Routemaster, and selected Leicester Square underground for the trip home via Chalk Farm.
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