Linden Font

Thursday, 10 January 2013

London Part I

I'm on a bus!

Matty and I chose London as our last major destination on our great European adventure of 2012. We both had family and friends there and thought it would be a great way to wind down and chill out after five fairly full on weeks. We must have had some kind of jet-lag fuelled amnesia, thinking our friends would let us slow down. We didn't really stop the from the moment we landed (at 1am in Stanford, 1 hour west of Toofarfromlondonville).

We stayed with my buddies Nadia and Paige. Both did an amazing job of showing us the sights. Nadia even lined up every kind of British food I might like to eat, planning every meal to a tee.

London Bridge

Our first visit was to the food shopping mecca - Borough Market. I love me a good market, and this one managed to simultaneously cement that love and ruin all other markets for the rest of my life. Oysters, handmade lemonade, tomatoes as far as the eye could see. Charcuterie, artisan cheeses, cakes and sweets. Before we loaded ourselves up with goodies for dinner, we sampled some delights for lunch.

I couldn't resist a cheese sandwich. Cheese sandwich, you say? That's a little bland, Bennetto. Well, judgey-wudgey, this is the king of all cheese sandwiches. Bow down before King Kappacasein! Made with Poilane bread, four pretty exceptional cheeses and five (I'm seriously not exaggerating) types on onion. Hooley dooley. I "went halves" with Nadia. I say went halves, but really I'd eaten three giant bites before she saw how big it was. Competitive eating, Bennetto-style. Oh, and I also managed to polish off a big sausage. I never promised to be classy and refined. We took our spoils home and polished them off with some great friends from college.

The next morning, I managed to outdo myself. I'd just finished showering. I'll admit it, I was taking my sweet time, faffing about, moisturising, staring at my reflection in the mirror (we all do it, right guys?). I heard the door open and thought it was Matty. I turned around, hunched over from picking up some clothes. Nope. This was not Matty. This was a man I'd never met before. And I was so far from clothed it wasn't funny. My towel was wrapped around my head, too tangled to use. It didn't matter, that ship had sailed - he'd seen my whole situation. He closed the door, shouting "Oh lord, I'm so sorry!". I, in turn, shouted back "No! No! I've just been eating pasta for 35 days straight! I don't always look like this in the nude!" Oh. Man.

My interpretation of Robin's reaction
My interpretation of Robin's reaction

It was Paige's partner, Robin. He was the perfect gentleman and only joked about my nakedness a dozen times or so. Oh well. He'll never forget me. No, I'm pretty sure that image is seared onto his retina.

A couple of nights later, Nadia took us to The Goat in Clapham Junction to enjoy a Sunday roast. What they don't have on menu isn't worth roasting - we enjoyed a crazy good roasted pork (Matty had the beef) with little yorkshire puds. An excellent way to spend a Sunday evening: full bellies, great wine and a lovely lass to show us around. Though, I can't say our bellies were so full we couldn't eat more Borough Market cheese when we got home.

There's way more to come from our time in London. Less nakedness next time.

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