Foggy Friday

Guess what time we left the house today...(no don't)

Where did we go? St Alban's Abbey was out of the question so we tried to make it to Kenwood House, Hampstead.
There was lots of thunder and lightning in the sky when we were waiting for the bus to Camden. After waiting ages at Camden for a delayed train (someone on the tracks further up the line), by the time we reached Hampstead Station it was 4pm and the skies had generously opened. We all waited half an hour hoping for it to abate, but it didn't much. The only people coming in and out of the station were the countless schoolboys, sopping wet, as if they care...I must say, I have never seen so many school children in one place before as I did in Hampstead. (Was it the milkshake bar on the high street?)

When we did step outside, I walked like a cat in a puddle until my feet were wet enough that I didn't feel it anymore.
Half an hour before closing and we were nowhere near Hampstead Heath. So we ended up doing a damp, drizzly tour of the very charming neighbourhood. I wanna live there. (That's just silly coming from someone in SJW...) No but it's cute! And don't have to go into town for anything. But at least it is possible to walk into town from SJW... So there.

The rain stopped and we got hungry, so we walked up to Rosslyn and caught a bus to Finchley Road, where we ate dinner at Cumin restaurant in the O2 Centre. It was delicious, satisfying, sort of nouvelle indienne. Therefore, not as disappointing as some of the stuff I've tried.

Couldn't catch a movie because we had to make it to the tango jazz do in Bayswater.
We went back home and put on skirts and shoes, and hightailed it off to Las Estrellas, Inverness Mews W2. As we turned the corner from Queensway, I thought it seemed a bit quiet. We doubled over with disappointment as we read on the door that the place was closed for summer holidays!!! How dare they???

...The one time I decide to try...

All at loose ends, I couldn't think where to go at 9pm, and the only thing that came to mind was cocktails! So we waited an eternity for a bus to Bond Street until we realised we'd be better off walking. Got shouted at by some guys in a car. Dude, this is not Italy you know.

We went to search for bars in St Christopher's Place, just because it was on the Jubilee line and convenient for the late hour. St C is a little hole in the wall by Bond Street Station which opens out into a cute little shopping-eating-hanging out venue leading to Wigmore Street.
It is indeed as disappointing as I've been told.

10.30pm, and we found ourselves in the bar in the basement of Auberge. It's just a bar. It was just a cocktail (French Martini - can't be bothered to describe it but it was pink and fruity (and contained Chambord)). Since discovering cocktails with Delightful, I have always savoured them, every mouthful. This I merely drank, it was OK , didn't feel a thing. Vanessa had a Raspberry Daiquiri. I drank quarter of that. Still nothing. You get what you pay for.

I miss the Townhouse...and that's not all...

We went home in a bit of a sulk.