Went on a food tour of East London with a German friend today and once again was blown away by the street art!
Two images from a wet winter’s evening in Central London
Love a train trip. Always have. Usually I like to get to the station early, check the departure boards and reassure myself I have ages yet, which gives me time to:
Muse on others at the station and wonder where they’re going and why
Buy a cappuccino
Peruse the magazines and books in Smiths and sometimes succumb
But mostly people watch.
I love stations and airports. All the drama, big and small in front of you. Endings and beginnings. Holidays, romances, family reunions, tired looking business people with a case full of whatever it is they do, tantrums, tears, laughter, sorrow. It’s all here.
This time I realised almost too late that my train was an hour earlier than I thought so a race across London, a quick check of the platform and a rush to my carriage. Delighted to make it with 3 minutes to go and also somehow cheated. All the usual pleasures of a meander about the station forgone.
As I got on though a sight that always reassures:
The craziness and noise of the station left behind, the reassuring quiet of this carriage. A window seat, socket for iPad, headphones and let the movie start. My train treat.
Later, movie over, we approach the border with Scotland and the view from the window absorbs me til we arrive in Edinburgh. My old home town. A life before the life I have now. And always feel like I am stepping back in time.
Love a train trip
What a fine start to a day. Breakfast with my friend Barbara a friend for more than 25 years. Precious time just her and I. We continued our catch up, started the previous night, on recent happy and sad times, news of other friends, giggles over memories of times past, feelings, thoughts, hopes and aspirations. Lovely. How much I prefer time with just one person to the party scene.
Breakfast. My favourite meal of the day when there’s time. Fruit from a bowl I bought in Poland and carried it and more in hand luggage on my cheap flight, trying not to wince at the weight as I strolled to the gate. Luscious berries.
And on our table the tulips kindly brought the day before. Already overblown. Love them that way.
A stroll in the sunshine along to the Victoria and Albert Museum for an exhibition of Italian fashion since 1945. Wonderous creations beautifully presented and black and white films full of glamour of times gone by. What a treat.
And then to the Barbican for some glorious dance.
Such strength and beauty in their movements. The human body in all it’s glory.
A head and spirit full of inspiring things and all topped up with the love of and for a long time friend. A wonderful Saturday. Lucky me.