So naturally, at 9am I was up, smartly dressed, and out the door for a Saturday full of fun!
I know I should have spent the day lying in bed sipping tea, but I think I would have actually felt sicker knowing I wasted a day of adventure being boring and lying around.
So, I headed out to Brixton to do some Christmas shopping at the Crafty Fox pop up Christmas market. It popped up for the weekend inside a cozy pub, that instead of being filled with young lads getting "pissed" (English word for drunk to the point of beyond loony) was fully of young entrepreneurs and their crafty trinkets for the afternoon! A vast improvement - if you ask me.
Everything from silver bracelets bearing teacup charms to hand-stitched ornaments in the shape of Christmas puds filled the tops of wobbly, wooden tables packed into the pub to create the make-shift market. It was quite cute, and very English.
I eventually found myself at The Tea's Knees - a pop up afternoon tea shop on the second floor of the market. What a delightful idea! All the Christmas shopping does create quite a hunger for a Christmas treat. As I approached the table of Victoria Sponges and owl shortbreads, my eyes went right to a cream-cheese frosting topped Banoffee Pie Cupcake that was simply begging to be devoured.
I suppose I should add Banoffee Pie to my diction-ry, since most of you likely have no idea what it is.
Banoffee Pie - A scrumptious pie invented in Sussex made of bananas, cream, and toffee sauce on a crushed digestive biscuits and butter crust. Sometimes a chocolate drizzle is added to take it up an extra notch on the Deliciousness Scale.
It typically looks something like this...
YUM!!
The only explanation as to why Banofee has not been discovered in America is that we are fools.
And don't go thinking it's just banana cream pie with some caramel sauce. It is so much more.
I didn't take a picture of the cupcake because I was so excited to eat it, that only a crumb remained by the time I thought to snap a photo. I suppose I will just have to go get another...
So I left the market with nothing but a bulge in my belly, and headed over to Southbank Centre to experience the Christmas Market there.
Right on the bank of the Thames, just around the London eye is a long row of little wooden huts lined in twinkling Christmas lights. A proper German Christmas market!
If you haven't noticed - I'm really into Christmas Markets. Especially when they are surrounded by beautiful sites in amazing cities. It was a beautiful, sunny day so I wandered along the bank taking in the sights and smells of the market until I crossed the bridge that deposited me right in front of Big Ben and Parliament Square.
I don't have the proper words to describe how amazing Parliament Square is. The architecture of the buildings is so incredible that I can hardly believe it's real. It really makes me want to quit my job and try to get a seat in Parliament, just so I can go to work there everyday. I wonder if they take Americans?
I also think the word Parliament is way more fun than the word Government. The US should consider switching to get more people interested. Prime Minister also sounds drastically more important than President. You can have the title President whether its for the town chess club or the United States of America, but there is only one Prime Minister. Another strike against you, USA.
I stood in front of Westminster Abbey for ages, sadly unable to go in because it was closed to tourist for the day. I found out though that anyone can attend a Sunday Service there, which I fully intend to do - and also that there is a Candlelit Christmas Concert there next week, which I must find a way to get into. It is currently totally sold out, but like that will stop me. Where there's a will - there's a way. Especially when you are a bit nutty in the head - and I'm proud to say I am.
From Parliament Square, it was a short walk to Convent Garden - which I had yet to properly explore. I passed through Trafalgar Square on the way, where I came across an interesting sight.
Easily 1,000 drunken Englishmen (and a few ladies) dressed as Santa dancing and throwing candy about like loons. Apparently all the people who were kicked out of the pub in order for the craft market to take over decided to party in Trafalgar Square instead.
It was literally chaos. Santas were climbing the Lions, splashing about in the fountain, and taking up every corner of the square. The Santa costume variety was also quite strange. I can only imagine all of the stores being totally out of stock of Santa suits for the rest of holidays. I saw everything from a guy wearing only red underwear, red body paint, and white beard, to a grown man in a red bra and fur-trimmed mini skirt. No one actually resembled anything close to a jolly Saint Nick one might find in the middle of the mall. Had I been a child, the whole thing would have been quite traumatizing actually.
Apparently the English are always looking for opportunities for fancy dress. They will randomly decide to go out dressed in costume for any plausible reason just to have a laugh. I think this desire stems from a lack of celebrating Halloween as children. By the time we American are adults, the idea of dressing up in a costume does not excite us. Especially if the promise of free candy is not involved.
Nonetheless, it was completely hilarious to stumble upon.
After spending some time melting over the cuteness of Convent Garden, I met up with a fellow ex-pat friend and headed out to Chalk Farm, a very cute bit of London up north near Regent's Park. We ducked into an adorable pub to escape the chilly night that the sunny day had become. Sitting sipping a cider beer, I felt very English. We were joined by a local - which made the evening even more authentic, and snacked on spicy nuts, aioli potatoes, and artichoke chestnut soup as we chatted and drank.
Within minutes - I had made eye contact with the cutest gentlemen in the room - a wire-haired Fox Terrier named Oscar. The owner, who clearly got groomed at the same place as the dog as evidenced by his hair style, handed over the "lead" to me so we could get better acquainted.
It was love at first sight. Everyone in the pub was eyeing my date, green with envy. I couldn't get over how brilliant it was that dogs are allowed into pubs! But Oscar was definitely a fine Englishmen who had been turned into a dog by an evil sorcerer's spell and was trapped like that for eternity. Doomed to life of dog biscuits. So, it should be allowed.
I also eventually got to chatting with the owner and his friend, who complimented my accent, and told me I had the loveliest, rosy cheeks he had ever seen. I wasn't quite sure if that was a good or bad thing.
3 cider beers later, we left the pub and walked along Primrose Hill until we reached the top of Regents Park. Hiking to the top, in the freezing cold, in my new high-heeled boots was beyond worth it, because an incredible view of London lit for Christmas lie ahead. And a moment of, "oh that's right, self, you have moved to London" happened. I still, at times, feel like I am just here visiting or that I a dreaming a very wonderful dream. But then I remind myself this is real life, and it's pretty bloody amazing.
I ended the wonderful day with nothing less than a wonderful meal. Quelle chance there was 1 teeny table open in Lemonia, a cute-as-Banoffee-pie restaurant on the street. I haven't had Greek food so good since I was on Zakynthos - and I haven't had a proper dinner, or eaten a meal with another human at the table in at least a week, so it was all around brilliant.
So after walking around London all day, in the cold, in heels, drinking, with a sinus infection and fever and cough - how do I feel?
Like a million bucks!
Actually, make that a million quid!
Proving that fun, really is the best medicine of all. Cheers!
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