London Baby – Part Two

So, well fed, we hit the streets. A lovely walk along the South Bank (keep me right JBN) followed by a dander to Covent Garden. Man, there’s a lot of nice shoe shops there. I found some boots for Santa to put under the tree in Camper, JBN bought some downright Sasky booties for wee Seb and we both had a major drool in the Orla Kiely store. The Christmas decorations were out in full force (sparkly reindeer!) and it was mighty festive.

It had been at least an hour since we had eaten, and as JBN knows me so well, she decreed that it was Cake O’Clock (my favourite time of day). She took me to Primrose Bakery where we glowered at some Londonites until they left and gave us a table. Cake heaven followed. I have no words, so here’s a picture:

And then. And then. The big goodbye. Made slightly difficult by the frequency with which JBN returns to Belfast (she’s addicted to our wee city, thank crunchie). J and S took off on the long walk home, and I tried to figure out how to walk to Oxford Street. I decided that I couldn’t handle map reading and trusted myself to the trusty tube. On entering Covent Garden tube station, I had a choice between stairs and lift. I took stairs. And went down and down and down, seemingly into the depths of the earth. About half way down, I saw some people staggering up, saying to each other ‘we’re nearly at the top’. You’re bloody not, says me. From memory, about 140 steps (can that be right?). I made it to Oxford Circus! Yay me. And once there, it would have been rude not to go to Gap (especially with my 30% discount). So I did. And it was top!

I got the word from Em that she was on the approach with the fam. No more wonderful sight than that band of lovely maniacs approaching. A big feed in Nandos, and then we headed to the theatah to see Hairspray starring Phil Jupitus and Belinda Carlisle (sorry Rich). I’m not much of a musical connoisseur, so I have little frame of reference, but it was great. Although I spent most of the show watching Rachael watching the show. Best view in the house.

A long walk back to the tube, a jolly tube ride and a wee dander back to Em’s pad. A G&T, some chitchat with me Julie and bed. Bliss bliss.

The next morning we took a ludicrous walk (well worth it) to see the mighty Tobe play rugby. For the Firsts! It was very exciting (not only because we got to meet T’s dad who is super posh, and we wanted to curtsey) although Julie and I couldn’t watch most of it without flinching and squealing. It was a rather sobering vision of Saturdays to come in a decade or so, when one or both of my boys will be rolling around in the mud (pray for us please).

Homeward bound. Furious to discover that the Krispy Kreme in Gatwick is now a bureau de change. Traditional buying of books for the boys. Short delay due to bad weather. Touchdown. Hugs with my lads in the airport. The best part of any trip.

29/11/2009. Uncategorized. 2 comments.

London Baby (featuring an actual London baby)!

So, the wonderful mister granted me 48 hours flying solo in the big smoke to catch up with some of the very important women in my life (and also my very important nephew and a very important baby). Flew into Gatwick on Thursday evening, got the train to Victoria (NOT the Gatwick Express, Em was very clear about this). Home to Em’s gorgeous, cosy pad in Herne Hill for a curry feast fit for a king (props to The Tobe). Got a very luxurious 8.30 lie in on Friday morning (stop laughing in the back, 8.30 is a bloody lie in!) and then set off to work with Em. Got the tube to Stockwell where I parted ways with my little Londoner with clear instructions how to get to Waterloo. Disaster, the tube I was told to get wasn’t running. I would have to get another tube, and change (I know, the horror, right?). So, there I was standing on the platform, obviously looking Northern Irish, when a very nice Tube worker said ‘do you need some help Miss?’ Who says Londoners aren’t friendly? And I only felt a tiny bit patronised when, after I got on the tube he called after me ‘you can take a seat anywhere’.

So I made it to Waterloo 10 minutes early. Props to me. Called the very darling JBN (forever Drama to me) for directions to her place and within 5 minutes was waiting to cross the road, and waving like a loon at she and Sebadeedoodah on the other side. After a tour of their lovely new place, and a quick catch up with The Stu , we loaded up the buggy and hit the streets. First stop, Tate Modern. Loved it, but have to be honest and say it made me feel uncultured. I just did not get a good deal of it. Gonna have to go with an expert next time (Carsonist, I mean you…). Drama and I both loved this piece. It was just magical.

Seb (the Dream) slept for half the visit and then he and his mom totally rocked the Bjorn look. Good as gold that boy, not to mention the most cultured baby in the land. After a good four or five (or one and a half) hours, a tea break was required. Inconveniently, the Tate cafe has a policy requiring the purchase of food if you want to sit in. What were we to do? You’ll understand then that we HAD to share a sticky toffee pudding. Had to.

Thus fortified we hit the streets again. We had a lovely walk round Borough Market (very difficult not to eat again but we were saving ourselves for Wagamama), with a quick stop to get some produce from Monmouth for the coffee lover in my life. And then. And then. Wagamama! Yaki Soba, with chicken gyoza (I know it was wrong to email the Stu a pic but it was payback!). I dream of the day when Waga come to Belfast (I email and email, but they don’t come). Someday…

During our glorious lunch, Julianne took this photo of me.