That said, NOTHING I did today got me any closer to enhancing my movie or show watching goals. I also didn't go to the Cotswolds, or to the Yorkshire Sculpture Park (day returns for 75 quid? Who wouldn't drive?), or to Cambridge, or Windsor (good suggestion, dimitra, I'l keep that up my sleeve for another day), or even to Hyde Park. No no, this was a day so full of slack that I only made it a few stops up the way to Notting Hill and was too lazy to even make it to a free art exhibit at the Serpentine (Matthew Barney, for those who care).
What we did do was go to the taqueria we were recommended by the waiter at Wahaca (called "The Taqueria"). My god. The food. How we did eat. I mean, I didn't order too much, but after a bite of shadowdaddy's chilaquiles, I was all ready to add on an order of green enchiladas, even though I'd already had a sope and was working on some carne asada tacos (lilithmagna, they do have plenty of vegetarian options, so we can go back some day). The owner and I laughed about Los Ingleses eating their tostadas with a knife and fork ("I try to teach them!" - and it's true, they even have a little diagram on how to eat tacos on their website) and he promised to break into their best tequila when I come back, which will of course be soon. Oh, heaven! I left with a little container of their Mexican drinking chocolate and a firm desire to make it all the way through their menu.
Afterwards we strolled up the street toward the Notting Hill Market, and were confronted with an array of things to buy, if we had money to burn. It was a bit like running the gauntlet on Broadway (on Capitol Hill) and beeing spanged left and right, only instead of being hassled by skint street kids, it was extremely posh shops that would have been more than happy to max out my credit cards with one purchase. The home made macaroons at the French yummy food shop, the tea books (like for Lifesavers) at the Tea Palace ... and the man with champagne on a serving tray in the Atelier Armani store. It was a fantasy life where I could just buy whatever I wanted as I walked up the road. It sure put me in my place. On the other hand, I'm glad I have enough taste to not even want the leather dress, complete with giant leather bow, we saw in one store. "It looks like a dress made out of a plastic garbage bag," commented shadowdaddy, and boy, he sure was right.
All said, this put me in fine fettle for the market. I bought nothing, I wanted nothing. Well, really, I wanted the gold lame dress in the window of the Armani shop, and the nice man serving me champagne as I shopped, but no dice. And all of the tat for sale at the market, it just seems like junk that woud clutter up my house, you know? I had my chocolate, I'd turned down a bunch of other stuff, I was good. The Autumnal Flush Darjeeling will still be there for me when I come back (doubtlessly on a Thursday, when the taqueria has mole and discounted margaritas).
Then it was on the tube and Down South for a lovely evening at spikeylady and ciphergoth's, where we were fed white wine and Thai food (I've been craving Pad Thai for about two weeks) and watched Heroes (which of course we've never seen) and just revelled in their good company and good vibes, 'cause, you know, there's a lot of good shows out here, but hanging with my friends is what it's really all about. I left behind book 3 of The Bitterbynde Trilogy, Connie Willis' Doomsday Book, and the Eyre Affair, which I, er, finished while I was there (I'm sorry! It was good!). Which reminds me - I'm up to 27 books read this year! Living here is good for me, I think, in ever so many ways.