last saturday: when life hands you cassis

when life hands you cassis, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

A walk around Clapham Junction in search of former Slide pizzeria plunged me into several amazing worlds at once. The high street nightmare, be it Oxford Street or other, the Northcote Road street market beauty, the chat with the butcher who's been there for forty years and doesn't mind Whistles opening next door, eating an amazing chicken-pork-mushroom pie sitting on the sidewalk, discovering the one of a kind Iniquity Bar (more to follow on their cocktails).

Then again, my oh my, these cassis tarts, all alone among strawberries and raspberries.

two sundays ago: chilling in soho

twisted view, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

I've been meaning to tell you about Cafe Boheme on Old Compton Street in Soho for months now. I felt, at first, that its new incarnation was going to become my (Grand) Cafe Amsterdam away from Bucharest. Everything was tops, some dishes even amazing, the waiters brilliant and the closing hours—late enough to keep you partying into morning.

Then the French fries stopped being perfect, the bar turned cocktails out in random fashion, and for the two last Sundays we've witnessed them closing before midnight. It's still enjoyable, still worth, but not my most favouritest place to crash on a whim—albeit, none is, and that's very sad news indeed for an area gleaming with life and laughter.

That story aside, in this rather funny self-portrait you see yours sincerely chilling out at Cafe Boheme's nearby sister venue, Boheme Kitchen and Bar, also reopened recently and seemingly run by one of the former Cafe Boheme waiters. It's lovely that they open the large windows so that the likes of me can sit on the cushioned windowsill, smoke, and take the whole world in.

The food? I wouldn't know; possibly similar in price and quality. The drinks? We had Leffe, and that was on tap, a nice and rare touch in London. The DJ played an amazing number of my favourite former DJ tracks; though, God bless him, on vinyl. The evening was warm for June and, in my tiredness, I wore the sunglasses like those posh kids I dislike.

Afterwards we saw The Edge of Love at the Curzon around the corner, which proved fairly easy as only a few lunatics like us go to the movies past 9 p.m. on a Sunday. Both the movie and the late hour experience—highly recommended; what with their midnight hour films during the summer! In honesty, there isn't as much Dylan Thomas as promised, but that's fine.

Last Sunday wasn't so lucky and chilled. We showed up in Soho too late, and after strolling about more tempting places, ended up at Balans, because nearly every other venue was pulling the shutters. Oh, well, Balans isn't that bad, after all. But isn't my most favouritest either. When you want to kill the Sunday evening blues, Central London isn't the place.

two thursdays ago: taste of london, detailed

21 L'Atelier du Joel Robuchon, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

My photos and thoughts on the Taste of London food festival deserve their own mini-blog and that is why, for a change, they're featured on Flickr. Go check the set of 23 pairs and let me know what you think; am I too much of a princess? Not that'd be news.

In brief, we aimed at Michelin star restaurants and have been more or less disappointed (more so by Gordon Ramsey and his team), with the notable exception of Le Gavroche, which we hope to crash soon. We've also discovered at least one eatery worth investigating, though not holding any stars yet—Launceston Place. Also, we confirmed our taste when familiar places like Salt Yard presented two of our favourite dishes in their trio.

A good experience in what stands for good weather here: two fine days and a storm, compacted.

discovering the zaza drink

Zaza, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

It was hard not to spot this drink while browsing Cafepedia 3's menu: Zaza. Not a blogger [RO], but the old style Dubonnet Cocktail itself, made of gin, dubonnet, and angostura bitters by this cafe in Bucharest. Be there a connection between the person and the drink, you haven't heard the best part yet: if you leave the angostura bitters out, gin and dubonnet on the rocks, with a twist of lemon, seemingly is the favourite drink of HM Queen Elizabeth II, a penchant running in the family since, at least, her mother's days. Now that's some company, Zaza!

the clearing

the clearing, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

Shot during those few, yet wonderful minutes of sun at Steve's BBQ last Sunday.

secret envy: street corner snapdragon

street corner snapdragon, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

Thirty seconds away from my flat lives this amazing snapdragon, in a tiny, tiny yard of heavily chained gates, where people keep their motorbikes. I noticed it about this time last year, when its size was perhaps half what it is today, and even tried to steal it one evening—I was amazed it popped out there and I thought I would save it. To prove me wrong, it came back this year bigger, brighter, stronger, and I'm content to admire it every other day on its street corner of choice.

last thursday @ Book Slam

Andrea Triana @ Book Slam, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

Rachel introduced us last week to Book Slam, a monthly literary and musical event happening across various locations in London for a few years now. The line-up consisted of writer Toby Litt, performance poetess and former World Slam Champion Kat Francois, and Andreya Triana, soul music delight from Brighton.

Toby Litt has written nine books so far, titled in alphabetical order, and read us two stories from his latest book, I play the drums in a band called okay. Enjoyable. Kat Francois got the public raving with the unique interpretation of her poems, and made us wonder whether they preserve their rhythm in writing. Andreya Triana has a sweet, husky voice and made my heart sing with joy when I recognised a song in her too short a playlist.

While the founder Patrick Neate noted she's the first ever artist invited after browsing a MySpace page, I couldn't stop obsessing over the song I couldn't have heard on MySpace, because I never open it. Trying to locate the tune on iTunes today to perhaps buy it, I discovered I own it! Tea Leaf Dancers (Flying Lotus Featuring Andreya Triana) appears on Gilles Peterson's compilation Brownswood Bubblers Two, a Christmas gift from my love.

All in all, yummy evening for GBP 6/ capita in the inspired setting of the 12 Acklam Road club. Even though the bar made us pay a 1 GBP fee for buying a wine bottle with a card.

I don't go looking for trouble. Trouble usually finds me.

end of school?, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

Last Friday this boy was helping a great number of girls to carry large platers of finger food into the nearby school, a branch of the South Bank whatever, miles away from South Bank. Other than kids silently coming and going, and the occasional mosquito-like security alarm, I'm not aware of living next to a school. Then there was last Friday, when all this procession promised a riot that never followed. Strange.

He looked like Harry Potter, went by the name of James, and was shorter and leaner than the girls. As he caught my eye, I wondered: did he owe the girls? Was he the only boy in that class? Or was he, in fact, the only mannered boy in that class? More importantly, however, given the excitement that surrounded their many little trips across the street, was to ask myself: is it today that school ends in the UK?

I didn't know and, for once, I didn't ask Google. I'd rather be surprised by the kids now and then.

how many shops are there on Oxford Street?

As many as it takes to get you. But not so many, since they keep repeating. Below, a fast count of the obvious brands present with more than one shop on the mile and a half long Oxford Street. I didn't check how many (and which, and how many times, and until when) also repeat inside malls, because this is clear enough and I'm not that masochistic.

Seven shops (and winner?): Carphone Warehouse

Four shops: Phones4u, Boots, The Orange Shop

Three shops: Accessorize, The Body Shop, Uniqlo, H&M, Zara, Clarks, Next, Dorothy Perkins, O2, McDonald's, River Island, Crest of London

Two shops: Faith, Jane Norman, Monsoon, Marks &Spencer, Barrats, Starbucks, Ann Summers, The Officers Club, Souvenirs of London, Gap, Esprit, Aldo, Vodafone, Russell & Bromley, The Perfume Shop, Evans, Wasabi, Moss Bros, Cornish Bakehouse, Foot Locker, Swarovski, Waterstone's, 3 store

And while I realise that this spells bliss for many, it only screams RUN AWAY to me.

before UK, I thought slugs were snails without a home

On Monday, advising Angela to use gravel to keep slugs off her garden, she asked me: How do you deal with slugs on your balcony? I said: Why, they can't reach there, I've no issue.

On Tuesday I came to sit on my windowsill for the first smoke and saw a small slug on a plant. With considerable horror, I removed it and wondered whether it's too gross to Twitter about it.

On Wednesday, my love's mom was around, and since she's taught me about gravel, which cannot easily be employed on a balcony, I shared the story, admittedly worried and surprised.

It's the hosta, she said. They can smell that miles away. The thing must've traveled for days!

overheard in the tube yesterday: mama to papa

She did what?! She spent all her money? She bought what?! She bought a digital camera?

Whoever she is (their daughter, possibly), I'd like to congratulate her strongly: a camera feeds soul and mind again and again, while spending all her money must've been a proof of determination. Definitely a better investment than clothes, shoes, sweets, movies, drinks or beauty products.

on the road, again

My eyes opened a few minutes before the alarm would've started, on a dark sky and a rain pouring ferociously. I debated getting out of bed for about an hour. Then I sorted many a thing around the house for another hour or so. The rain calmed down meanwhile, but it still didn't look like BBQ weather. I made a coffee, I checked my inbox, I downed a box of blueberries and I'm ready now to step foot in Surrey. First time. First BBQ this year. First bank holiday I'll treat as a holiday. The city is shut down, more so than on a Sunday. Time to travel to greener pastures.

overheard on street: loud drunken girl to quiet drunken friends

I know where we are now, I know where we are. We're behind the cream building, by the green garden. I know where we are, we'll be there in five minutes. I'm sorry, I know where we are now.

across the street, as I write

across the street, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

Funny things happen when I bring Zoey to the balcony, from the neighbours' party last night (guest lady to host, appalled and loud: and you are dressed just like Boris Johnson! That belt, the horror!!!) to these French teens hanging out—I hate the expression, but what else can I call their doing now?

If you don't know Boris Johnson, learn that he's replaced Ken Livingstone as London's Mayor, unfortunately. It was obviously bound to happen, also unfortunately. Brits are known for getting tired of their rulers and changing them for the sake of it. See replacing Tony Blair with Gordon Brown, with whom they seem bored already.

As for watching the world go by, a great pleasure of mine, I can report that a third of the ladies are still blocked in their boots and windshield coats (not that cold in the city, for Christ's sake), another third jumped straight to really short shorts and flats (so unbecoming), and the last third are struggling on kitten heels. Thoroughly funny.

In view of that, the better put together exceptions are likely to stand out even easier when The SartoriaList stops in London next week. I've read of some ladies being so excited that they're thinking really hard about their outfits. Shouldn't that be a rather daily practice?

end of first picnic

end of picnic, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

We carried our dinner last evening to Regents Park and watched the sunset for over an hour, with cold meats, fresh baguette, salads, beer, cordial flavoured sparkling water, hot lemongrass tea, and, of course, cigarettes. First picnic of the year. Perhaps tonight would've been warmer, but it wasn't an option. Yesterday we'd also received the first invitation to a barbecue.

We did feel, soon into the experience, that someone should invent picnic gloves, the kind that don't take your tactile abilities away and can, at the same time, get dirty with food and, consequently, survive many washing machine cycles. But other than that, it was great. I wish you could sit on the grass in the parks of Bucharest without risking a fine.

Each time I come back to London I fall in love with it again, and try not to take it for granted.

last night's sky in three easy steps

unusual glow, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

epidemic spreads, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

on fire, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

that's traveling for you

Last Saturday we went to a nearby medical centre to get our vaccines in view of the trip to Asia. The lady doctor asked my love when he had his Hepatitis A vaccine done, so that she could tell us whether he's immune for 10 or 25 years. He answered 2005, and the doctor countered, excited:

Oh, then, 25 years, you'll never have to do this again in your life!

Because, you know, in 25 years we'll either die or stop traveling to weird places like Asia.

sunday: where no one has gone before

Thames barrier, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

Quite a few have gone beyond the Thames Barrier and back, I suppose, but I couldn't resist parading our trip. A cool (however tiny) megastructure across half a kilometer of river, this beauty built in ten years impressed me in spite of the rainy day. Although closed only once a year and only some years between 1983-1989, the numbers evolved together with the sea level and in 2003 the barrier was closed no less than 19 times. A larger defensive project called TE2100 (Thames Estuary 2100) has been initiated for this reason, as well, and has last been updated in October 2007.

sunday: april is the earth month, not the water one

April is the Earth month, not the water one, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

While waiting for the speed boat crew of two on Sunday, I noted to myself that cleaning Thames must be a tougher job than cleaning London, the latter doing better than the river and much better than most European cities I've seen.

saturday: noho square remixed

noho square remixed, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

Sometime ago the real estate craze of London demandeth that every little area (neighbourhood, perhaps) carries its own name. This is why informal (and long ago bohemian) Fitzrovia, bordering Soho, was one day renamed Noho—following the SoHo/ NoHo New York model?

Coming back from getting our vaccines before holiday, we couldn't help notice that other locals love the future office building complex (that knocked down some lovely old buildings) as much as we do, to the point where they remixed its name on the fence quite successfully: Ho, No!