![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
London One . . . More . . . Time
Since my last update, things have continued to go well. After Kew on Friday, we headed to the bar at Crazy Bear for drinks, then to Tsunami for Japanese-meets-everything sushi and sashimi, and finally to Floridita for a few cocktails and more salsa tunes. That was a late night.
Saturday started with a trip to the Borough Market, which involved chorizo, kangaroo burgers, and biltong. There we four of us, so strategic sharing let us all try everything. Then it was time to get to the pad of my brother-in-law, Rob, to get it ready for the party and chill. The party itself . . . well, the sky was growing light on Sunday morning when we finally crashed. Good times! I swear I mixed a hundred cocktails.
Sunday was for chilling. We grabbed a late brunch at Bistrot Bruno Loubet, and then strolled around Shoreditch and surrounds, and down to Brick Lane Market. The market involved a pit stop for salt beef on a warm bagel; Montreal should fear this competition for smoked meat. The evening saw us return to Fulham to stroll to Chelsea, where we got wonderful Indian food at Chutney Mary.
And now . . . now we're packing to get to Heathrow.
no subject
When I read the Daily Illuminator today I noticed the line about drugs to keep us from noticing the truth. Have you ever thought that maybe we're given the drugs so we don't notice things out of the ordinary, not because we'll get all freaked out run away in a blind panic, but because we'll get all freaked out and go running to get the subject's autograph?