Wow, so that’s what a month without blogging feels like… Apologies for the long absence, there’s no real reason for it. I do have plenty of crafty things to update you on, including the quilt which has taken up a disproportionate amount of my time lately and the most fantastic present I’ve recieved from a fellow blogger (Laura, that’s you!).
But for now, some pictures from our Easter trip to London. When we were kids we used to go and visit my aunt and uncle in London every summer. It was always hot and dirty and noisy and exciting.
Every time we’d see a show (this could be the reason for my hatred and my sister’s love of musicals…) and use our Blue Peter badges to get into various attractions for free. My uncle would take us to this little Italian cafe in the evening where we’d drink cappuccinos and watch the car lights flash in the night through the steamy windows. This is one of my most enduring memories of London, the damp warmth of the coffee machines and the clatter of cups and plates, the London accent mingled with Italian in the background and a big, hot cup of milky froth, covered in cocoa powder.
The thing about London is, when you’re ten and someone’s leading you around and telling you where to go, it’s great. When you’re 29 and you get off the train not knowing quite where your hotel is it takes a couple of bottles of Corona before you feel anywhere near that happy.
We went to a lot of museums, god bless Tony Blair and his dropping of visitor charges to public museums. I fear this is the only thing he’ll ever be remembered fondly for. And we met my brother and his wife for lunch, watching the Eurostar come and go at Euston Station. But the whole time I was there I was waiting for someone to take me by the hand and offer to take me to a puppet show in Little Italy. Just hold my hand and I’ll show you the way… x
