Exploring Notting Hill

I have long dreamed of wondering around Notting Hill; strolling down Portobello Road, popping into the travel bookshop. Mostly due to the movie, yes, but my name is Anna, afterall - and I'm American. I am also sort of nuts - so how could I not have these fantasies?

So I began my Sunday with a lovely walk to Notting Hill from my place in Chelsea, which happened to take me right through Kensington Gardens. The sheer beauty of Kensington Gardens on a sunny, crisp, fall day was simply divine. I was in total awe as I was strolling through, admiring the cute dogs chasing slobbery tennis balls, little boys racing on scooters, and people feeding bits of bread to the loads of ducks, geese, and swans swimming around the big pond in the center.

The gardens here really are lovely. They are flat, perfectly manicured, and always filled with people enjoying them. I walked up quite an appetite, so just before I arrived in Notting Hill, I popped into Paul Rhodes, and got a little something to nibble.

My first, proper English scone.

Fluffy, chewy, amazing. Very different from our American scones. It was like eating a buttery cloud.

I arrived at Portobello Road and instantly started swooning. Candy colored houses line the streets filled with Londoners appearing out one shop with brown-paper wrapped parcels and disappearing into another. I quickly joined the dance.

Slowly I twirled into Chole Alberry to waltz around, touching everything to take in as much as I could.

Scooping up handfuls of old, exotic coins, lifting the little tops off of floral china teapots and putting them back, running my hand along the top of a vintage country french kitchen table, and wondering who E.R.S. carved into the wood is.

The days when your dreams become a reality are so wonderful. Even more so when the reality is greater than the dream itself. I remember countless moments in Paris that I had imagined and romanticized in my mind for so long, and when I actually got to live it, it was even better than I hoped it would be. I felt exactly the same way as I strolled through Notting Hill.

No trip to Notting Hill would have been complete without visiting the travel bookshop.

I was tempted to ask the girl behind the counter if she had any books by Dickens, but I figured she may not find it as totally hilarious as I did - and may not have understand that I was quoting the movie. The shop did have a variety of books as a matter of fact, not just travel books. Including a cherry-red journal with the classic "Keep Calm and Carry On" in-scripted on it. I purchased it so that I can keep it with me at all times for my au moment thoughts, and my crazier thoughts that can't be published to the world. Yet.

In other shops along the road, I got a jump start on my Christmas shopping!

They all have really unique, fun things and are truly one of a kind.

In a lovely pop-up shop, I saw my favorite find of the day, which made me think of one person and one person only: my brother Todd, a minimalist.

For only 14 Quid - as they say, I could have got him the ultimate present.

If you can't tell, those blocks have things printed on them, like "Sheep" and "Joseph." I couldn't buy it of course, but I did find it to be rather creative and budget friendly. I can't reveal the purchases I did make, because I don't want to spoil Christmas. But those of you on my Christmas list have some fun parcels coming your way!

I'm still figuring out the pounds system. The money is so fun and colorful it's hard to believe it's real. Our plain, green, American dollars are rather drab, really, in comparison.

The "notes" here are pink, shiny, and oversized! How fun!

It's also been hard to become familiar with the coins. I'm still sort of picking them up, examining them and internally wondering "what's this one do," every time I go to pay. In the US - I throw my quarters in the laundry change dish, and consider the nickels, dimes, and pennies pretty much useless. They get left in random pockets of my J. Brands and corners of my Rebecca Minkoff.

Here, I've got to keep track of my coins, as the thick, heavy, gold ones are worth 1 pound. When you get change for a note, they usually give it to you all in coins - which makes for quite a heavy change purse, and quite a confused me. I'll get the hang of it eventually I suppose.

I've also become a tea-drinker, officially. I'm sipping a nice Earl Grey at the moment - since I seem to have developed my annual trachea infection. Like clockwork - every winter my throat starts to inflame and voice starts to go. I am desperately trying to do everything I can to prevent this from happening, since I leave for Paris Saturday and would prefer not to be The Mute Parisienne while I am there. How can I order croissants and baguettes without a voice? I suppose on the bright side it would be very Little Mermaid-ish of me, and I kind of like that, since I have always dreamed of being a Disney Princess.

There is always good that comes out of bad, I believe. So if I do end up sans a voice - I am convinced a handsome Prince will come to my rescue, fall madly in love with me, and we will live happily ever after in a castle in Paris with a view of the Eiffel Tower and an unlimited supply of Laudree Macarons.

The End.