Summer In The City
We woke this morning to a call from my brother Ben, saying Mum wasn’t well. It’s so hard being so far away when things like this happen. A lot can happen in 24 hours so after a bit of a blubber, I applied the old stiff upper lip (appropriate for where we are) and thought we’ll cross whatever bridge we need to cross when we come to it.
First on our agenda this morning was coffee…followed by breakfast of course. Sam’s our man if ever we are away from home and want to know how to access the best brews in town. His extra-sensory coffee-locating radar extends to all the far-off nooks and crannies of the globe. He sent us in the direction of Ozone, in the hip and happening area of Shoreditch and as soon as we spotted the blue-moustachioed barista, we knew we were in the right place. Without a booking (who knew you had to book in a coffee shop?) the only seats left amongst the chic exposed brick and industrial ceilings of this coffee hot spot, were at the ‘bar’, which meant we were basically looking directly into the kitchen, like peering into the orchestra pit at the theatre. Eyeball to eyeball with the chefs, it was fun watching them poach, flip and scramble, fry and simmer and peel. We had front row seats, throwing out the occasional encouraging: “ooh that looks nice” or “ooh what do you call that one?” their way. I’m sure they tried extra hard to impress us, which incidentally, they did. Both coffee and breakfast were scrumptious. Thanks Sam.
We continued to wander around Shoreditch and Hackney, Molly indulging in some retail therapy at her favourite shop. There was a very cool shopping centre - Boxpark - made entirely of shipping containers - that we had fun exploring. The bottom level is made up of tiny, container-sized shops, all side by side and then upstairs is all bars and restaurants, some sections open air, with lots of plants and seating. It was like a great long, elevated beer garden with such a great vibe.
Keeping our step count thriving, we padded over the Harry Potter Bridge (aka Millenium Bridge) and crossed to see the giant St Paul’s Cathedral; it’s massive facade right in front of us. It is huge! Though I’ve been to London before, I’ve never stood in front of St Paul’s, only seeing it from a distance in the past. It really is beautiful.
Once again, the lawns were at capacity, with picnic blankets and sunbakers galore, as we made our way to the Tate Modern, a Mecca for art lovers the world over. Molly was ecstatic and literally skipped down the ramp and through the big double-doors. There’s an interactive exhibition there at the moment, by Japanese artist, Yayoi Kusama, called ‘The Obliteration Room’ - actually aimed at kids, but we couldn’t resist. The artist constructed a little 4 room house, complete with furniture and pictures on the walls - all of it completely devoid of colour; stark white. Everyone entering the rooms is given a sheet of different sized, different coloured circle stickers to place anywhere they like in the rooms. Only open since 23 July this year, the rooms are now an explosion of colour. It’s quite incredible to see and it was fun to put our own mark on it.
I must admit some modern art is a little too arty for me, for example, the room filled with 15 giant tongues on the floor, with the last tongue, made of soap, in a tin bowl sitting in the middle of its own pitch black room. Hmmm.
I loved seeing all the paintings, especially getting a buzz out of seeing original works by Mondrian, Picasso, Dali, Matisse…in the flesh! All the walking had taken its toll and I was flagging a bit so Molly did the last room solo while I sat on a comfy chair for a rest. It turns out it was extremely comfy and it also turns out I’m turning into an old lady, nodding off, sitting up in a chair! Molly took an incriminating photo of me calling in the cows. Hope it never gets out in public.
We had a drink at the Tate Modern outdoor bar and gazed out over the Thames as we were treated to some great buskers.
Tonight we were hoping to have dinner, or at least a drink, at the Skygarden rooftop bar in the famous walkie-talkie building. Bookings are advised but the website states that they do take walk-ins. It was booked out, but being a Monday night, we thought we’d take our chances and just turn up. We arrived to a small queue but the bouncer was engaged in a loud argument with a guy in the line that seemed to be getting a bit feisty. By the time we got to him, he told us categorically, there was no room at the inn and he wasn’t budging an inch. What a bummer. We stumbled upon a restaurant/bar a little way down the road, with live music that sounded pretty good. It was fairly empty inside but a really cool place with old records all over the walls and behind the bar. I went to the bar and ordered: ”two Margherita pizzas please. And a Coke and an iced water”. The music was loud so he leant in and clarified: “that’s two Margheritas? Two Margheritas and a Coke & a water?” Yep. Got it. It was then a bit of a lengthy wait as he meticulously measured spirits into his shaker and cut limes. I wondered why he wasn’t just giving me my Coke & water so I could sit down. A few minutes went by before I realised all that cocktail mixing and shaking was on my behalf and he proudly presented me with two margaritas. Not two Margheritas. Oops. I told him I’d ordered pizzas, not drinks. He was adamant I’d ordered them and I could see he wasn’t in the mood for an argument. Molly doesn’t drink, so I had no choice but drink them both!
