Wednesday, 17 September 2014
We've been in the house for about five weeks but I think that we've spent as many days in London as we have at home.
Not deliberately. Well it was to begin with. That first weekend, just two days after we'd moved in, we dropped all our bags and boxes and ran to London to catch up with everyone that we'd missed, and the invitations that we hadn't been able to accept over the past few months.
At last we got to see my sister P's awesome new flat, ate lunch in this cool up-market market, took home scrumptious but probably over-priced sour dough bread, salty butter and cakes that she bought from here for us. It's a shame that I can't find the images...Everything was so good. (Thanks P)
Then there were trips to collect A's brother on a mad visit from Denmark and stay a couple of days. Take him back to London again and stay another.
This week; a manic dash to pick up H's things ready for when she moves on. The blurry photographs with fast shutter sum it up. It's all mad, the traffic is crazy, the sirens and car horns a cacophony that make you want to join in and SCREAM... It's busy and a million times faster than it will ever be here...Yet, you can't help liking it in a perverse kind of way.
But it's oh so good to drive back to our messy little house down quiet starlit lanes and curl up into bed at half past one for a good nights sleep until a wayward tractor starts it's own kind of cacophony an hour or two later. London is good, I love it. But "east, west..." you know the rest...