… you know what the say about buses… you wait for one for ages and then two show up at the same time?  Well I can confirm it is also true about weekends away with your husband.

Two weeks after the last one we found ourselves once again on a train speeding towards the capital .


Don’t you love train journeys?  Whilst I still prefer the freedom of a car trip, there is something so relaxing and contemplative about looking out of the window without a concern.  You simply sit and let it take you to your destinations, watching the world go by from a different prospective than the road side view we’re so accustomed to.  It almost feels like you’re suspended in between places… where you’ve started from and where you’re going… time too stands still and then suddenly you’ve arrived and time, life, your journey begins again.  Do you know what I mean?

(It is also a very good time for knitting…)

After a short walk through the busy city…


… we arrived to a very unhurried lunch which began with a really nice aperitif…


(The Ivy, London)

Then we strolled off the cocktail on our way to the National Portrait Gallery in Trafalgar Square and ambled through the Howard Hodgkin exhibition.


Absolutely fantastic show, made all the more poignant by the fact that Hodgkin died about five weeks ago… sad.

(Shhhh, you’re not supposed to take photos… but I love this one was much!)

After dinner,


we walked to the Royal Albert Hall (again… what did I tell you… it never rains or if it does it pours…) for a performance of the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra… of James Bond music.   Mr M’s choice… but it was a lovely evening regardless my slight reluctance.  (Give me an English man who doesn’t think he could be the next James Bond… yup, impossible)


And then we had a mornig like this:


We stayed at The Mileston hotel… amazing.


(no, I didn’t stole the bunny… tempting as it was…)

The building is from 1689 and has had various reincarnations: a privato home, a school (apparently one of the French king – can’t remember which – was educated here) and even a lunatic asylum!

Anyway, after another quick stroll (gotta make those 10,000 steps a day folks!)


it was time to go back to the boys… and you know what?

We found ourselves empty nesters for the night:  No 1 was at a party, No 2 went for a sleepover, No 3 is in Italy at my parents’.

So… just us… very weird feeling.  Not sure I liked it.

One thought on “– 60 – postcards from London

  1. driftwood says:

    I’d have eaten the bunny for sure! x


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