London is never the same. Not from one day to the next. Today was no different. Spent the morning working and hopped onto the tube to Piccadilly. Had run out of my Nespresso capsules which in my book, is conducive to panic.
My wallet is a London wallet. Heavy with pounds coins and a million or so Membership cards. Trés vital is my Nespresso membership card, my ‘I am one of the exclusive club’ cards. Alas, no George, but entering Nespresso allows for taller stature, higher of head and sweeping knowledge of ‘I will have a box of this and that.’ And the complimentary shot and biscotti. Flash the card, leave with distinct packaging.
St Pancras station and a catch up with Paula from Soothed in the City for a pow pow meeting of ideas and mentoring. Special place in my heart this magnificent place. Love the shops, the architecture, the memories of waiting to board the Eurostar, always after a coffee at Le Pain Quotiden. I even take photos of the place, so much she loves it.
As night falls, which here is about four thirty, I headed for an early supper at Suda in St Martin’s Square. As grumpy women go, I hate being offered a table with a time limit, but then this is Friday night and the city is pumping at the seams. The best way to eat Thai is to order communal plates and share – tonight with Callan, Charley and Sarah. Rich Oyster sauce veggies, duck and dumplings, noodles and Satay. Delicious!
Early and Friday night is a riddle. We finished way to early for the beginning of the weekend. People only go out at 11pm, so what to do next? ‘Ice Cream of course!.’ says Charley, exhausted from a heavy day at the Le Cordon Bleu School in London. Are we detecting a second wind? A revival of spirits post work amongst the four of us? Totally.
Soho. Fun explosion on the darker side. The streets are thronging, pulsating with the idea of promise and fun. Tomorrow and hangovers are far away. Difficult to stay on the sidewalk there are so many people everywhere. The restaurants are packed, the clubs have queues backing down the street. Cruising, cussing, catching up. Humanity condensed. No-one judges, it’s Falafel, wine and sex central. Further down Old Compton Street is Amorino – Ice Cream heaven. Macarons and Ice Cream for the still able to consume on a winter’s night. I choose Pistachio and Vanilla. The others, Spekuloos, Hazelnut and Chocolate. We laugh and chatter but most of all, infuse the happenings of weekend seekers looking for a night out, oblivion from the working week and love.
And now, the idea of Thai, Ice Cream and Soho would have the careful tut-tutting, but how to describe the joy of doing so many different things in ONE day in London – best to just be here and sink into the vibe.
Thai and Ice Cream in Soho.
Because I can.
And to top it all – found this book in Sandfords – goes to show, you can make anything work if you believe hard enough.