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| New fav bestie pic! |
…me to Stella about a man we were studying at the pub who we thought was British but ended up being American. “Yup,” Stella confirms.
Sunday 830p
Saturday morning I pass back out after my blog post and sleep hard until past 10 which I’m pretty much allergic to in real life. Stella and I walk to the Portobello Market, a street market in Notting Hill. The market is packed, the day is stunning and the neighborhood is charming as hell. I'm so happy to be here I narrate our whole walk: "Look, cashmere! Look, poms! They have silver? OOo purses! Darth Vader!"
By far the best part is the Acklam Village Market that is chock full of food stalls representing street food from all over the world and Bay 58, my favorite bar I’ve been to in London. I want twelve stomachs so I can try food from every stall and then a 13th stomach to fill with cider, but alas the gyros we get are giant and we fill up to I-hate-myself level fast.
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| In love with Bay 58 |
The bar is eclectic and gorgeous, using recycled everything from theatre seats to giant paper flowers to fill out the space. A girl plays her acoustic guitar and sings and she’s so good, I video her original song so I can share it. After her set, she walks around selling CDS and we learn her name is Livvie Beers and she is indeed a girl, braces and all!
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| I will put my face through any hole |
Stella and I spend the rest of the day doing a bunch of nothing, which is the thing we are best at. It turns out one of the best places for Thai food in London happens to be at our local pub so we go there for dinner. (Thai or die! I'm making it happen.) I eat the best curry I’ve had in forever while Stella and I people watch.
You know what London has a bunch of? Cute boys. We have an ongoing discussion about why. Is it the accent? Dumb question. Is it because I’m generally mad at all white American males lately? Could also factor. Is it the clothes, the stubble, the variety, the friendliness? Those all work, too. We sit at our table like scientists researching theories. Do we talk to anyone? Um, did I mention there was food in front of us?? Of course not. Food before dudes.
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| Finally, some good sleep! |
Saturday night I relent and take one of Stella’s sleeping pills and I go into a coma for nine hours. Thank you, God and Stella.
Sunday we go to Soho for brunch at Palomar. They serve food from Jerusalem in small plates (like tapas) so you order a few and share. This is one of Stella’s hangs so I let her order everything for us which is why, consequently, I don’t know what anything was called. So from my perspective we had bread with yummy sauces, chorizo sloppy joe, pork belly with apricots, and a cooked salad. And the nicest of nice cocktails featuring ginger.
The rest of the day we do errands and lots of nothing. When I check my email and get a ticket confirmation for An American in Paris on Monday night, I remember that I woke up at 6am and went online for a little bit. And clearly bought a ticket to a show, so I have that to look forward to tomorrow!
Drugs are funny.
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| not statues & they scared the crap out of me |
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| Greek food, for the win |
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| "THIS is the happiest place on earth," I told Stella. Obviously, she agreed. |
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The Easter egg colored houses of Portobello Road - so cute
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