I’ve been far too verbose lately, so here’s some photos to make up for it.
Cycle couriers trying to touch their toes.
Godwin pretends it’s an accident that his socks match his bike.
Gordon does not pretend it’s an accident that his tattoo matches his shorts.
Probably the most beautiful coffee I’ve ever drunk – made by Steph at the Fleet River Bakery in Lincoln’s Inn Fields.
Some more celebrity deliveries.
I was more excited by this one.
But I was much more excited by this woodlouse, in St James’s Square.
This is what Fullcity’s cellar used to look like.
Now it looks like this.
I love the incongruity of this shot (Orange Yard en rose).
And the symbolism of this one. (Whatever it could be said to symbolize. I don’t know. Make it up for yourself.)
This cake was far too sweet. Really. I thought it would pick me up out of my two o’clock slump, but it just gave me a five-minute sugar rush, followed by an even worse slump. Not recommended. (It’s the cupcake du jour (or semaine, or mois) from Lola’s on Lansdowne Row, in case you were wondering. Peanut butter and jam. But don’t try it.)
This one was just perfect. Blood orange and almond, from Mrs Marengo’s in Soho. But unfortunately it belonged to Liz, so I only got one bite.