I DON'T KNOW what it is about Kings Cross that makes us want to join long queues for food, but this weekend, we did it again. This time, it was for dim sum and you don't even want to know how long we waited. We were tempted to leave a few times, but the promise of the best dim sum in London was too much, so we stayed.
ON THURSDAY we took the long train journey north to Scotland. It's normally a five-hour trip, but there was a delay, so it took a little over six and half hours before we finally arrived in Glasgow. It was marvellous to be there again⏤it felt like it'd been a long time.
ON SATURDAY we walked to one of our favourite pubs along the Thames. It’s right on the water, with a row of tables on a dock set below the large outdoor terrace that backs onto the pub and we were very lucky to get the very last available one. The weather was unseasonably warm, the leaves were just starting to turn, the air was crisp on the water and when P asked me if there were anywhere else in the world I’d rather be right at that moment, I was amazed to realise that there wasn’t.
RECENTLY came across an old story in GQ about the last true hermit, who had zero communication with the outside world (with two very brief exceptions between 1986 and 2013) for 27 years.
ALTHOUGH I am never awake for them, I prefer sunrises to sunsets. Sunsets are an ending, and I love beginnings. Sunsets mean the end of another day, which means time away from all the things I love to do, at least until the next morning. I guess it’s a FOMO of sorts, a constant fear of missing out when my eyes are closed.
THIS WEEKEND we saw Anatomie d'une chute (Anatomy of a Fall), Justine Triet's French courtroom drama that actually won the Palme d’Or in Cannes this year. It was though-provoking, gripping at times, and made us talk about it quite a bit, even long after it was over.
THERE IS a Welsh word, hiraeth, that is used to describe a homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of your past. I've been studying words in other languages recently, marvelling at how different languages have so many descriptive ways to denote very specific feelings or situations.
ON SATURDAY we cycled to Richmond Hill for a picnic. We were hoping to see the turning leaves, but it must still be too early here yet. P picked up a bottle of our favourite cava, an absolutely delicious baguette and some extraordinary brie and we laid down our plaid wool blanket in the grassy area overlooking the Thames...
ON SUNDAY WE went on a epic 50 km bicycle ride past Wimbledon and Clapham Common (where we stopped for a bit to lounge in the sun and nibble on the mini ice cream bars and pan au chocolat we picked up along the way) before heading into the city centre...
THERE IS a Japanese word, baka, that is used to describe the beauty of the changing seasons, especially the vibrant colours of autumn leaves. In theory, this word relays something beautiful, but when it appears to be occurring in the middle of August, perhaps decidedly less so. Yes, July was a washout (apparently the sixth wettest July on record), but August, well we had high hopes for August, which has continued to deliver more of the same.
ON FRIDAY we finally made it to Hampstead to visit The Holly Bush, perhaps one of the most photographed pubs it London. It's on a really lovely quiet street and looks just as charming when you first happen upon it as we had hoped.
THE WEATHER has suddenly turned cold after last week's unseasonably warm days. Unfortunately, because of our location, we were unable to view this weekend's spectacular celestial event: the ring of fire annular solar eclipse. Did you see it? It was apparently visible from parts of the US, Mexico and in South and Central America...
ON THURSDAY we met up with an old friend who we hadn't seen in over ten years. He was in London for only two days and thought we might meet for a pint and catch up. We choose that little pub in Belgravia that I told you about before. It was so good to see him again and we had such a nice time over mid-afternoon drinks...
THIS WEEKEND, P recreated the sandwich we used to get in Valencia, complete with the salsa verde. It was marvellous. He also made Fideuà on Sunday, so we had a rather Spanish weekend. It's actually the last long weekend of the summer here and despite two days of overcast skies and rain, it did clear up today and was perfect.
LATELY ALL my dreams have been the same: a car careering out of control that I can't stop, a car that I can't start if my life depended on it (and it usually does). Apparently, according to Claude (yes, I tell my dreams to bots now), the unconscious mind often uses cars to express thoughts and feelings about our control, power, independence and ability to progress in life.