I went to Brixton Village Market on Saturday with my Essex mum's son, Sean. We had tea and sourdough toast in Breads Etc and I got Nutella all over my hands, and face, and jeans. Classy innit. I think I was still shaken up from my 10am driving lesson (yet another kerb scrape, and going round a roundabout in fourth gear - it's like I just try to terrify my instructor weekly).
If you like not being able to chose a restaurant because there are so many (on this occasion, I did not, because I was starving) then you should go to this very place. Time Out even have a
devoted to it - sort of wish I'd read it before we went, but I'll know for next time. When it got dark we decided to pick a random bus and see where it took us, and we ended up going over a bridge just as the Lord Mayor's parade fireworks were going off, so we got off and watched them. I had no idea the Lord Mayor was not Boris (apparently he has something to do with financial services, and that is when I stopped reading... yaaaawn. Jolly nice fireworks though. I love the way people say "aaaaah" as they explode like they've never seen such wonders - it's quite sweet).
After that we wandered along towards Tower Bridge, and found a little arcade called Hay's Galleria, this strange canopy that looks a bit like a train station with a big ship fountain in the middle. There was no information whatsoever regarding said fountain, so the mystery remains (and that would be Sean, looking mystified but happy). Then because it was cold and nighttime we obviously got Starbucks Christmas drinks and went for a Wagamama's.
Later on I went out with Annie and by about 9 there was so much fog that walking around Muswell Hill was like being in a horror film. London is so much creepier when you can only hear people but not see them. When I woke up the weather setting on my phone said "London Fog", which made me think of Mad Men - funnily enough the company
We were talking about Gorillas in the Mist, and expecting one to attack us - especially when you consider that
takes place in London every year.
You literally couldn't see 20 feet in front of you. It was a quite oneiric, like walking around in a different world, especially when after the gig we went to a Lebanese restaurant and ended up smoking rose-flavoured shisha with the owner. Everything seems quieter and more subdued in the fog - I don't think I would like it if every day was foggy, but the occasional time is quite interesting.
Today was finally time to go home after a hard few months of work, and as per tradition I took some Krispy Kremes in case my mum hadn't remembered to buy all the food I asked for (she did quite well but still omitted the duck pate and vintage cheddar - apparently they don't sell such fine foods in Stewarton. Hurry up and get a Waitrose I say).
There it is, the double dozen in all its glory (twelve proved not to be enough last time when my sister came home and ate about 4 herself).
I think Maple Glazed is my new favourite.
I should really have saved one for Essex mum, as a thankyou for providing me with ammunition for breaking house rules. I just got a row for eating doughnuts in the living room ("Wendy never gives me a row for eating in her living room. AND she doesn't make me iron my bed covers"). Izzy just gasped audibly.
I'm finally putting a picture of our puppy, Stella, on my blog because this is the first time I have gone home and she hasn't peed all over my feet as soon as I've stepped into the kitchen. and i suppose, after all, she is quite cute. The only annoying thing about her now is that mum sometimes calls her "Steph" by accident. I did think the dog had replaced me, but now it's just getting insulting.