Yesterday I took myself along to the Black Food Festival here in London. It promised to be a gothic food paradise: black sushi, ice cream, wine…
Or not, as the case may be. Most of the vendors advertised didn’t turn up, and the whole event was less than half the size they implied. But I still had a nice day. Read more
I had never been to a supperclub before last Thursday. There are usually Humans there, you see, and I prefer to spend my time at home alone given the choice.
However, I have secretly always harboured a desire to participate in a Galentine’s event. Read more
One of the things I enjoy the most about London is its greenery. 40% of the city is green space, so no matter which area you live in, you’re probably not far from a park.
I am fairly close to Hyde Park, but I don’t go there often because it gets quite busy. The other day, however, I decided to go for a wander through the Italian Gardens. You can reach them by navigating to Lancaster Gate tube station and then entering the park through the gate opposite the station. Read more
There was recently a petition here in West London to save a tree that stands next to the river by Fulham Reach. We won for now and the developers backed down – they wanted to fell it because it apparently got in the way of the view from the luxury investment flats they were putting up. Ugh.
I’d never actually seen the tree, so I went for a walk along the river a few days ago to meet it. Read more
Years ago my friend told me about “the queen’s bra fitters” and how they do free fittings and we had to go. I was like, yeah sure, but they’ll be posh scary people and they’ll judge me for my old manky bras and my size. But eventually the old manky bras got to the point where there was only one of them left, and it was pretty dead, and I desperately needed a new one. The last time I’d been fitted was when I was an anorexic teenager, and now I’m an overweight adult, so I knew the size would have changed dramatically but I had no idea what my new one might be.
Off we went to Rigby & Peller, bolstered by the news that they’d lost their royal warrant for writing a book in which they gave away a bit too much information about the queen’s boobs, so they must be a little bit rebellious. Read more
I love London. I always thought I hated it, because it’s a city and I think of myself as predominantly a country person, but I love it. The anonymity, the melting-pot of cultures, the way my little corner of it feels like a community but also most people mind their own business.
I love that it’s a very walkable city, and few areas are more appealing to walk around than the Thames Path. Read more
Café Bar Necco used to be my favourite sushi place in London, back when I was working at Movember for a few months, whose offices are on the same street. Being a creature of habit I went there for lunch every day, soon amassing enough loyalty stamps to make me officially feel like a regular.
Then I stopped having a reason to visit Exmouth Market on a regular basis, so I hadn’t been back in a while – probably at least a year and a half. Last week I went back there again, and although it’s lost some of its lustre, it’s still worth a visit. Read more
It was a dismal, rainy day in London and I was tired and ill. I was pretty sure I’d have to go back into hospital fairly soon: a belief which was backed up the following day when I ended up in A&E again. (I’m OK, don’t worry. Just a mild case of Angry Internal Organs, which is nothing unusual.)
Anyway I was not really in the mood for a musical and I considered staying at home, but in the end I decided it would be a good distraction from the crampy pains in my mid-section so off I went. Read more
Last year I could barely eat. I certainly couldn’t eat anything spicy. So when Chai Naasto dropped their menu through my door one day, it felt tantalisingly cruel.
I waited. And I waited. And I waited. And eventually I was allowed to eat spicy food again, so HP and I took ourselves there last week and had a wonderful time. Read more
At the end of last year, when I was finally allowed to go outside again and able to walk more than about seven paces without collapsing in a pathetic heap, I started a Sunday tradition of going for a walk along the river. Gradually this seems to have evolved into spending Sundays wandering around various bits of London, before coming home for a warm bath and a hot chocolate.
At the beginning of this year, I looked through all the places I’d been bookmarking since I moved back to London four years ago, and decided to actually go to them. Most of these are either restaurants or wine bars, and almost all have been recommended either in wine magazines or by wine aficionados (which I almost shortened to ‘winos’, but nope. Different thing.) I booked myself in for one per week initially, but after the first trip I realised that (a) it would be exhausting to go out that often and (b) my budget would be completely blown after the first one each month. So I think my self-dates will have to be once a fortnight at most. Read more