Three amigos
After breakfast in bed with Lorraine, I caught the train to Blackfriars to meet Bob and Carl who were siting outside the national theatre. Carl's Friday was 'a stolen day' after a short story he wrote years ago, where he spent his time wandering about his multitude of old London haunts.
The three of us quickly settled on a plan, which was to walk eastward along the Thames, a journey to be punctuated by moments of refreshment, first in Doggetts. Bob asked about the pool table, and there hadn't been one there for ten years.
Then we sloped into the Tate, where Bob insisted he didn't want to see anything with saggy white strings. Instead we went to see the The Shape of Light 100 years of photography and abstract art, which seemed mostly composed of black and white prints with squiggles of light on them, and other abstractions. Very few paintings, one being a Mondrian, which Carl pointed out, matched his socks (see below). I had gained free entry with my Member's card, a Christmas present from Lorraine. After a while we noticed that Bob was malfunctioning and increasingly hangry as he hadn't eaten properly since yesterday lunchtime. Grabbed a snack, and Bob gradually returned to normality.
Walked towards Tower Bridge, the scene before us one of sunny gorgeousness, and people walking along in hundreds in a distinctly holiday mood. Those days when the weather is nice, transform London. We considered crossing the river and going to the Prospect of Whitby, but eventually stayed south, ending up in Rotherhithe, a places I'd never been to. Perhaps it was the gorgeous weather, and good company, but I really liked it there. We stopped at a few pubs, but the last two were amazing. One was called The Ship Rotherhithe, and the other called The Mayflower. In the latter we got talking a Yorkshireman, and a woman from Finland, who were just about to move to Finland.
Caught the overland train one stop to Canada Water, and connected with the Jubilee extension, and sped back to Southwark. The tube shrieking in the tunnel as it was going so fast. We walked towards Waterloo, and popped into Vaulty Towers, where I'd been with Anton not long ago, before strapping on a Mexican style nosebag at Wahaca restaurant. No grasshoppers like I'd had in the real Oaxaca in Mexico of course, but very nice and Carl paid for it too.
Fond farewells with Carl and Bob at Waterloo, and I made my way home. A bit of liveliness with a group of angry young lads at the taxi queue, one of whom had obviously been punched in the nose, judging by the tasteful spatters of blood on his teeshirt. Slipped into bed next to the lovely Lorraine, and drifted into an innocent sleep.
The three of us quickly settled on a plan, which was to walk eastward along the Thames, a journey to be punctuated by moments of refreshment, first in Doggetts. Bob asked about the pool table, and there hadn't been one there for ten years.
Then we sloped into the Tate, where Bob insisted he didn't want to see anything with saggy white strings. Instead we went to see the The Shape of Light 100 years of photography and abstract art, which seemed mostly composed of black and white prints with squiggles of light on them, and other abstractions. Very few paintings, one being a Mondrian, which Carl pointed out, matched his socks (see below). I had gained free entry with my Member's card, a Christmas present from Lorraine. After a while we noticed that Bob was malfunctioning and increasingly hangry as he hadn't eaten properly since yesterday lunchtime. Grabbed a snack, and Bob gradually returned to normality.
Walked towards Tower Bridge, the scene before us one of sunny gorgeousness, and people walking along in hundreds in a distinctly holiday mood. Those days when the weather is nice, transform London. We considered crossing the river and going to the Prospect of Whitby, but eventually stayed south, ending up in Rotherhithe, a places I'd never been to. Perhaps it was the gorgeous weather, and good company, but I really liked it there. We stopped at a few pubs, but the last two were amazing. One was called The Ship Rotherhithe, and the other called The Mayflower. In the latter we got talking a Yorkshireman, and a woman from Finland, who were just about to move to Finland.
Caught the overland train one stop to Canada Water, and connected with the Jubilee extension, and sped back to Southwark. The tube shrieking in the tunnel as it was going so fast. We walked towards Waterloo, and popped into Vaulty Towers, where I'd been with Anton not long ago, before strapping on a Mexican style nosebag at Wahaca restaurant. No grasshoppers like I'd had in the real Oaxaca in Mexico of course, but very nice and Carl paid for it too.
Fond farewells with Carl and Bob at Waterloo, and I made my way home. A bit of liveliness with a group of angry young lads at the taxi queue, one of whom had obviously been punched in the nose, judging by the tasteful spatters of blood on his teeshirt. Slipped into bed next to the lovely Lorraine, and drifted into an innocent sleep.
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