Sunday in the Park

It was a study in Pointillism: the girl sitting on her petticoats (read: Anthropologie skirt), absently munching on her smoked salmon sandwich (yes, the other half from the Royal Albert Hall), a tiny dog happily bounding up to her and climbing all over her for bites of her sandwich. Sunday in the Park, indeed. However, the setting is in London, not Paris, and there wasn't any monkeys. That I saw, anyway.

I took myself all over London Sunday afternoon. I started in Notting Hill, looking for Hugh Grant but suspiciously, he was nowhere to be found. So, I found solace in vintage shops (found a fantastic hot pink '50s lacy top for only 15 pounds! A steal above all steals in this town.), and wandered around the Portobello Road, which on Sundays houses an antique market winding down its street. I almost bought a vintage cricket ball, but decided I didn't really want to lug it around all day.


Then I wandered down very rich streets and watched very posh, young families eating chips and burgers and salads in outdoor cafes (it was a gloriously sunny day, and warm too) until I found Hyde Park, and sat myself down for some people-watching, sandwich-eating, and book-reading. I sat there, reading my book until the air grew cold, the clouds dressed the sun, and orange leaves floated over my legs.

I brushed myself off and shopped a bit down Kensington High Street (too crowded on a Sunday afternoon to be too enjoyable, especially the Topshop there, which was far too cramped), meandered down smaller roads 'til I found the perfect French patisserie/boulangerie where I took away a mini vegetable quiche and exchanged pleasantries with the owner en francais, then popped down Gloucester Road, indulged in a strawberry cupcake from Hummingbird Bakery (GO THERE. If you live in London, GO THERE NOW. Cupcakes of all kinds, from m&m to caramel to strawberry and back again. ahhh!!!!), and made it to the V&A Museum for its last hour. I'll have to go back to be able to see the special exhibition on Lee Miller & couture fashion.

Thoroughly exhausted, I returned home and fixed myself a rather disgusting combination in description, but delicious in taste, of the easiest dinner imaginable: tofu & manchego cheese & jam atop a crumpet. SCRUMPTIOUS!! I shall teach you how NOT to cook in this blog. Start your microwaves!!

As today I wandered around Oxford Circus at the dizzying weekday hour of 5 - 6pm, I felt overwhelmed. Just when it seems like western Europe's great cities are being eaten up by consumerism & global brands, when there's a McDonald's and/or a Starbuck's sign within every eyeline, and I can't remember why I'm here and why there are so many people and so many brand name shops after brand name shops, you turn a corner and see this:


And then you remember: Oh. I came here for this. Quiet pedestrian back alleys with pastel-colored walls, lanterns, and doors the colors of rainbows. You just have to look a little harder. I don't mind working for it.