"Somebody here has definitely murdered someone..."

Okay ladies, now let's get in formation

...is what I say to Stella in the park today because we are surrounded by so many people that this is 1000% true.

On Saturday Stella has to work, but its only for a few hours across Hyde Park so we take advantage of the gorgeous morning and I walk her partway. While Stella works I meander around the park, I visit Peter again, I try to get decent pictures of all the different kinds of ducks for my dad to see, and I fail. Stella wants me to get her some flowers from the farmers market a couple blocks from her flat, so I swing by. Last Saturday we went to the Portobello Market instead, so I’m wholly unprepared for what I find.

Farmer's Market haul. Not pictured: fresh pasta

It’s fresh everything! I know that’s the point of a farmers market, but somehow I’m acting like I’ve never been to a farmer’s market before and also like I haven’t eaten in a week. I’m drunk on REAL butter and REAL fish (There! Looking at you! Smelling like the sea!) and REAL apples. The lovely Italian man in front of a table of 10 different kinds of pesto encourages me to eat as much of his samples as I want and I almost deliver his first born child on the spot (he's very young). I buy the most beautiful food I’ve ever bought, and I almost forget Stella’s flowers because I'm So High.

THIS IS REAL BUTTER!
FROM A REAL COW!

I eat half a loaf of bread and butter and a tub of the richest yogurt in existence as soon as I get home, and my senses return. I am SO HAPPY that I’m not lactose intolerant. 

I meet Stella after work in the park. How is that possible when the park is enormous and I can’t use any data because my international charges are trying to bankrupt me? Old fashioned Spidey sense. 

The park is like a spring celebration. At least a quarter of London lays in the sun, white skin turning pink with exposure. The city vibrates with Spring. I’m wearing a T-shirt only for the first time since I arrived. Life is good.

Springing in the
streets

Life gets even better at dinner. We eat at St. John with some work friends/friends of friends of Stella’s, and it’s one of those rare dinners where I meet people for the first time and feel like we’ve been friends for years. Also, I eat a bread pudding with butterscotch for dessert that makes my skin melt. And having abandoned the No Dessert wagon for the night, I finish all the community desserts (poached pear & brioche, salted chocolate & caramel tart, blood orange cake) because somebody has to. 

Holy… As I write this I’m realizing last night was so good, no one took any pictures. Not of the food, not of the cocktails, not of ourselves, not even of the bread pudding. That’s the golden ring, y’all. 

Mini Mums

On Sunday, Stella and I go to a screening of Woody Harrelson’s “Lost in London”, a film he wrote and directed. The screening is at Picturehouse Central which, it turns out, IS MY FAVORITE MOVIE THEATER IN THE WORLD. The caps-lock might seem like a lot, but you weren’t there. It’s so nice and pretty! 

We walk upstairs to behold a wall of candy, and I try every sour gummy candy they offer in the name of science and vacation. (Hell, I just realized I didn’t get a picture of that either. Trust me, its glorious.) We discover that sour candy, like all things except Mexican food, is better in Europe. 

Woody provides beer, wine and champagne for the screening, and that with our candy and popcorn makes up a pretty satisfying lunch. The whole event is so fun, even though Stella says she saw a mouse in the theater. I’m not saying I don't believe her, I’m just saying I didn’t see it. 

Stella and I walk all the way home from the Picturehouse. It's the warmest day of the year so far (70s) and picture perfect. Not a single Londoner stayed inside today which makes for a rush hour-like walk home. I’m not complaining, I'm observing.

These are probably pigeons

As Stella and I walk through the park, the throngs of people get more space to spread out which eases both our moods. People, babies, and dogs alternately play and lay all over the ground. Flowers are everywhere. It really is a stunner of a day. 

Away from the crowds, we relax and chat and smile again. 

Then. 

Out of nowhere. 

Clompy footsteps rush up behind and around me as a Peaked Man in Black with a Black Satchel approaches Stella with a breathless, “I saw you and I have to say…”

I can only assume the rest of his sentence is “I’d be honored if you’d be my wife,” because that is the level of his intensity. I don’t hear him, however, because Stella zooms away from him and I follow. She says he was homeless, I say he could have been a traveler. Two breaths don’t pass before we spot a guy peeing into a bush. We conclude that London is telling us to get the fuck out of the park already and go have Thai food at the pub. So we do. Thai or die!