On Sunday, The Girlfriend and I went to meet TheBoy in London's exclusive Hampstead, to celebrate the temperatures of over 30°C and to make our contribution to the presence of Beautiful People. Disappointingly, Parliament Hill was not full of Beautiful People, but drunk people (I was only jealous because I had no beer), so there was little eye-candy (ourselves excluded, of course). Bizarrely, despite being one of the largest sections of greenery in London, most people decided they wanted to be crammed together in a single part of the heath. Maybe they were practising for their beach holiday in Benidorm.
Apart from the silly proles, Hampstead was as fine as ever. As soon as The Girlfriend earns enough, I shall let her buy me a house there. We had a pleasant couple of pints in the Freemason's Arms before retiring to the Holly Bush for dinner (or a pint of prawns) - officially the darkest place in the universe. There is nothing quite like a lazy Sunday afternoon with friends, so I am going to start making a habit of it. At least while it is sunny (or until my cashflow runs out).
Vive l'été.
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1 comment:
why do so many people get their chub out at this time of year? i say, bring back victorian-style full-length bathing outfits.
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