I packed my book and my sunglasses, I put my hair up and tucked my scarf in my coat. G sent me to Church (street) and A found me reading my book behind the flowers, in the Green Room Cafe, where life is easy, the vibe is relaxed and the babies don't cry, they just smile. We should come back here, when the back yard opens and the garden blossoms.
We then walked around and into a different era, when people were putting big white roses on the tables and were taking their tea in fine porcelain. When the girls were wearing long dresses and men were sending postcards from their trips. When people were using candles and tea was served with sponge cake. And we time-travelled with our leather suitcase: he was wearing a waistcoat and I was wearing a flower headband. And our dog was sitting in the armchair. We should come back here, at Vintage Emporium, to write poetry one day.
xO
Friday night in Soho is quiet and cosy. With heartfelt conversations under atmospheric lighting with new loved friends. It has the scent of smoked ham and cheese. It has the sound of Sade and of English with that beautiful French accent. It has the taste of wine in a carafe and that of a warm, hearty Ducksoup.
...should be "a thing". For those chats that "cannot wait" and for those friends that you want to have your first cup of coffee with. They set the tone of your day, they make you feel that life doesn't begin only with work and they remind you that London is alive from 6am. You just need to pick the right place that will host your "business-breakfast" and your most un-business chit chat. Because who talks business at 7:45am on a Friday at Hubbard and Bell?
That tiny place behind Waterloo. Where you dream of riding that blue vespa and let your hair blow in the wind. Where you escape to drink your tea, eat some cake and plan your next trip. Where you meet your friend before theatre and you talk love and art and life. That Scooter Caffè.
xO
On a special occasion. With a special friend. We picked the most special of places: a table in the clouds with an ox cheek doughnut with apricot jam, a bread with welsh goat's cheese and a duck leg on a waffle with mustard maple syrup. We saw the most beautiful colours - that of the sunset over London, and we tasted the fullest of flavours - that of unexpected combinations. And we toasted to the person that conceived the Duck and Waffle and everything that comes with, in and around it. And to all these: the ingredients of the special moments in life.
xO
There are some great old pubs in Mayfair and then there is Mr Fogg's. It's not a pub. Not a bar. I promise; it's his home. You walk in and you sit on the sofa, waiting for him to pop out. And while you sip your drink you're starring at that big red hot air balloon and you wish you were in there, travelling around the world in 80 days. This place tells a beautiful story. And the fact that it makes you want to be part of it, it's its success. The lovely cocktails come as a bonus.
xO
You order a peppermint tea and a soda bread (one of the 50-things-to-try-before-you-die), you pick a Sunday paper from the little table in the entrance and you don't read it. Because you lounge and just look around you. You enjoy the ambiance, you browse the 70s kitchen utensils in the glass display, you gaze at the neat-and-tidy young families around you and you take a note to visit the Kitchen Table, upstairs, soon. And here they are: the class of 2003 arrive. And you start the where-are-you-what-you-do conversation feeling this warmth in your heart. The warmth that you get when you're around people you've known for ever, when you taste good food and you enjoy a sunny Sunday in one of London's most beautiful pubs, the Mall Tavern.
xO
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