Last weekend: Santas, sausage & onion rings
Well, that was a surprise! Although I live in the heart of Camden, my street is a a few blocks removed from tourist central, so there is very little noise pollution. Last Saturday I could hear all sorts of hustle and bustle=y noises floating up from the road. It was clearly not normal, so I ran down the stairs, Lettice tucked under my arm, rounded the corner and saw…Santas.
Many, many, many Father Christmases, and not a few Mothers too.
Turns out London’s SantaCon was starting out up the road and one of my locals was a stopping off point. Certainly made all the neighbourhood coffee shops and bars very happy: that’s a lot of business for 11am on a Saturday morning.
As quickly as they arrived, they melted away again, and Lettice and I drove my little car the fifteen minutes over to Little Venice in Maida Vale to pick up Liz from her narrow boat home on the Regent’s Canal. (Although she lives just the other side of the park, public transport would take over forty-five minutes.)
This isn’t her boat, but one very like it. It’s a ravishing part of London, and well worth exploring. There’s a narrow boat cafe, and it’s perfectly possible to walk or ride a bike down the towpath to Camden.
Liz and I met at university, although our friendship really developed after we left, and throughout my twenties and thirties she has been one of my dearest friends. It’s impossible to over value the kind of friendships where you may not see each other for maybe six months, or even a year or more, as when I lived in America, yet always be able to pick up exactly where you left off.
I trust her judgment implicitly, and admire her ability to always cut to the truth of any conundrum. Her intellectual curiosity is matched with a clear compassion and emotional intelligence: she is truly a delight to be around.
(If anyone followed the link on my birthday post to my celebrations in Manhattan in 2007, Liz was staying with me then.)
We parked up back in Camden and headed straight to Regent’s Park con chorizo. We were so very, very hungry that we headed straight to The Smokehouse on the Broadwalk inside the park for a late lunch. It used to be the Honest Sausage Caff, serving free range and organic bacon and sausage in baps and rolls, but was taken over by Benugo last year, much to its detriment.
No pastries and coffee in the morning for dogwalkers, a limited menu of burgers with a particularly dull vegetarian burger, made from a flat mushy taste-free lentil patty. Complete waste of time. But the fries are good, and the onion rings better. We-ordered-three-portions-better. Washed down with pints of cold beer, we made a satisfactory lunch, but not one I am ever in any hurry to repeat if it means eating that turgid lentil burger again.
Lettice sat quietly on my lap, but one of the guys working there kept making faces at me and waving at Lettice. He didn’t say anything, I think because she is so tiny, but I got the strong impression that Letty wasn’t welcome. This would be a real shame, as the Honest Sausage was a legendary dog walkers hangout. All in all, The Smokehouse is a fail apart from for grabbing some rings and a beer to eat on the hoof.
After lunch the light was starting to fall but we set off for a march around the park, visiting my old friends the Bactrian camels at London Zoo en route.
I brought Liz back for tea and a wee before she set off back to her boat. We always have so much to talk about, that it’s always a wrench to say goodbye.
Remy and I spent a large part of the Friday before on my pre-holiday purge, and I am luxuriating in having part of my office tidy and organised. I have implemented a clean desk policy for both of us – although I’m not helping on that front so far. (The beautiful flowers by Grace & Thorn were a birthday gift from my friends Virginia ad Lauren at Aisle 8 Communications.)
I prefer to write in bed rather than at my desk, so I treat my bed as more of a divan, pilled with pillows and cushions and counterpanes. There’s a television wall-mounted at the end, and a wide windowsill for a vase of flowers, scented candle, piles of books, a lamp, face cream and emergency snacks.
So, after getting some work done at my desk, I retired to bed for the rest of the evening with Lettice to write, read and hang out.
