The afternoon in question was that of 4 March 2010.
Took the Tube to Embankment and wandered along the river. Had a coffee, visited the Tate Modern, then crossed the “wobbly bridge” to St Paul’s. Saw a signpost for the YHA hostel I used to stay in along with the other Kenyon-Exeter students back when I was a young study abroad student and we used to come to London for educational theatre outings. Couldn’t resist a detour to go have a look. I can still remember being in the dorms and and listening to the clamouring bells of St Paul’s. After my nostalgia trip, I stopped for some dinner in a restaurant where I reckoned I could eat alone in style (ah, well you know me…I’m always stylish, eh? Especially with jet lag?) and sat next to the window with a view of the cathedral.
But no rest for the wicked. I needed to once again collect my trusty backpack and travel the Northern Line to check into my B&B in Muswell Hill, to be ready for the start of my course in the morning.
And I had a fantastic and powerful weekend, which I won’t go on about right here, right now. But I will tell you I went to Toff’s of Muswell Hill one night, which I’m told is ‘dead famous’. I’d had potato wedges earlier in the day so I told the guy I wasn’t sure I wanted chips with my fish. He gave me a scoop anyway, on the house, so I would have the full experience. Isn’t that nice?