Sunday 30 January 2011

Critterz.

I was a regular party girl this weekend and went to not one, but two parties with the W.I. ladies. One was owl-themed (with blanket capes and face paint). It was a hoot.


The only odd (read: completely terrifying) moment of the night occurred when I was walking home from New Cross with a nervous skip in my step. I was just rounding the corner of Sanford Street when a car pulled up beside me. The driver wound down the window and asked me if I wanted a lift, then seemed wildly offended when I told him that I was, "okay, thank you" (why I thanked him I don't know). I'm not sure who he took me for. Do people actually get into cars with strange men? Did he not realise that I grew up in the age of stranger danger? I pretty much ran home from there.

Another Place.




Wednesday 26 January 2011

To a tea.

My birthday may well be in October, but that didn't stop me from celebrating the fact that I am twenty-one (¼) years old with my mum this week. We had a busy few days of unbirthday treats. On Monday we bought Hummingbird cupcakes and knitting needles and ate tea at Leon and £1 popcorn at the cinema (yay). On Wednesday we went to Windsor to visit the Queen and eat frites at Cafe Rouge (yay).

However, the highlight of my week (nay, my life!) took place on Tuesday. We met up with my auntie at Marble Arch and walked through Hyde Park to see the Anish Kapoor installation. When we reached Kensington, we went to the Natural History Museum for a couple of hours and looked at dinosaurs bones and bottled creatures in the new Darwin centre.



At three we went to the Ritz, where we were ushered in by doormen in hats. After a visit to the fancy powder room (you used the wash cloths, you threw the wash cloths into the special wash cloth bin) we were seated and offered a wide selection of teas (including Ritz Royal English, Ceylon Orange Pekoe, Russian Caravan, Oolong Formosa and Moroccan Mint). I went for the unimaginative but tasty Passion Fruit and Orange ("a truly wonderful taste, apple, hibiscus, sweet orange peel blended with passion fruit and orange" according to the menu).



The traditional afternoon tea menu consisted of a variety of neatly sliced sandwiches (including cucumber), freshly baked scones with clotted cream and strawberry 'preserve' (you can't go around calling jam jam, in a place like the Ritz!) and an assortment of afternoon tea pastries, served on a silver tiered-stand. What is more, I was presented with a surprise birthday cake, simply because my auntie called me 'the birthday girl', when our waiter was within hearing-range. I wish I could eat at the Ritz every day.

In the evening we went to see War Horse at the New London Theatre and it was magnificent. I was on the edge of my seat throughout and for reasons that had nothing to do with the view-obscuring light fixture in front of me. I think that the biggest testament to the magic of the theatre in general and to War Horse in particular, is the fact that Joey - the eponymous 'horse' of the play and by all accounts an amalgamation of wood and fabric tassels - engendered more applause at the end of the show than the rest of the actors put together (including the hard-working puppeteers that brought Joey to life). The perfect end to a perfect twenty-first birthday.

Wednesday 19 January 2011

Par Avion.

With the realisation that I have only five and a half months left in London came the realisation that in five and a half months we are going to have to deconstruct the postcard wall. We have been collecting postcards ever since we moved into Scawen Road (I wrote my first postcard to my "new housemates" in Prague and then subsequently lost it for a year and a half in the clutter of my room). Originally they lived on the door of the fridge, however, when we moved to Evelyn Street - following a summer in which both Gabby's brother Stephen and I went interrailing - we decided to move our vast collection on to the sitting room wall:


Right now, there are seven or so postcards lined up on the mantelpiece, because we have run out of room and pegs. There are also three or more postcards lost in the post/residing downstairs with our mail-thieving neighbour. Anyhow, when we leave London in June we will divide up the postcards one way or another (I can't decide: should we keep the ones we wrote ourselves or share them out equally? What should we do with the postcards we wrote together, like the one we sent from the top of Snowdon or the sticker postcard from the London Aquarium?) Either way I have decided to document our postcard collection (a couple a week, in no particular order until we leave). This is one of the first:

Monday 17 January 2011

London's Calling.

It dawned on me over the holidays that this is it - the last real term of my last real year in higher education (pending further notice, at least). In five months time I will be packing up my student life and leaving London, possibly forever - and contrary to what freshers Jess might have told you, that makes me very, very sad indeed. But less of the grumbly tones. Despite the horrendous amounts of work I have to consider over the next couple of months, I intend to make the absolute most of this big big city while I am still here. Gone are the skype conversations with my dad, where I would say, "but I don't have to do everything at once. I've still got three/two/one year(s) left". This is the time for lists and plans and misadventures a plenty; which is why I spent my Christmas making immense Google Maps and Eurostar bookings with Sarah:




In other news, I came back to London today and went straight to Brockley with my monstrous suitcase, for my first ever W.I. committee meeting. I am officially an assistant vice-prez now, so please feel free to come to me with any knitting needle/ jam making/ cake baking queries you might have.

Monday 3 January 2011

La Nouvelle Vague.








I like the idea of starting the year with a couple of film resolutions alongside my normal ones. Lots of period drams/book adaptations coming out over the next couple of months, which - as always with these things - could go either way. I've never seen the 1947-Richard-Attenborough version of Brighton Rock, so at least I'm not going to be disappointed in that respect.

Also in twenty-eleven: The Tempest (starring Helen Mirren as 'Prospera', hum), Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2, Super, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows, The Adventures of Tintin: Secret of the Unicorn.