Song: Gregory Alan Isakov, In Tall Buildings
Book: Italo Calvino, Invisible Cities
Ingestible: Sunday Roast from Pig and Butcher
This weekend has been the most wonderful thing. Yesterday I woke up late and met some friends at the Brunswick Center for lunch and sweets, and then Vic (see above) and I had a wander. We went through parts of Covent Garden, stopped in a few stores to buy him some winter clothes (The boy is from California, and brought a thin windbreaker as his sole jacket. I’m not sure how he has survived in New York this long). I of course, bought nothing at all because I am great at packing (and by that I mean I bought a few shirts to wear to work. Who knew that bartending has it’s own accepted uniform?) and then we walked through St. James, Green and Hyde Parks. Each of the parks has it’s own feel, and it was wonderful to roam through them without any goals or plans, talking to a friend about shared and divergent interests and falling asleep in the half-sun that London does so well. Today Vic and I are going to roast at Pig and Butcher, a pub and kitchen that my new boss recommended. I will return with a semi-complete review in the next seven hours.