back to Notts

The best way to end this trip to the UK is going once more to my good old Notts. From my deep knowledge of the area that I've accurately screened during my uni time, I'm all the times surprised that there are still some undiscovered alleys in the city centre. Some of those are not always open and you need to pop up the right time in front of their gates if you hope to unveil their mysterious beauty. This time we discovered another cobbled footpath among the old buildings, few businesses, barber shop, record store and a little café with excellent blends (probably you find here the best espresso around town).

Chilling at West Bridgford river banks is always something I love to do in this season. After a jacket potato tea back in the city we are now ready to head to Wollaton Park were the archery national finals are taking place.
Lovely place.

rain cycling throughout parks

Riding in the sun down to Ladbroke Grove

until the run has gone we can't miss the road
from Kew to Richmond Park
where ducks are stuck under a lake bark.

 

Grass like straws, deers are grazing

look up there a plane now raising
fades the horizon into tiny flakes
sudden shower, then a mudguard breaks.

around Belsize and Hampstead

Sometimes I work at the expo panels, sometimes I cycle and cycle.

 

Today it happened to stopped at Tesco's for a refill, and I met other cyclists buying banana and sausage roll. That's apparently a London cyclist's typical meal. I reach Ilse for lunch and we finally found a corner in super crowded square, meant for having packed lunch, I believe. We talked about pigeons, their looks and behaviours.

In the late afternoon after some work I had a walk through Camden in close Belsize Park where beautiful Victorian houses rise all over the place. I reach Hampstead, which surprisingly is not as good as West Hampstead. I think it looks too posh to be there. Anyway, I found a very nice street where the time seems to vanish where all the little shops grow.

reunion

The strange think of the city is that some habits are really forgotten compared to the rest of UK. Where the heck do you hide jacked potatoes and Garibaldi biscuits? I don't think these are such uncommon things to find. What else to say... famous musicians have money, so that can afford to buy at M&S on a daily basis.

Days are going and the work I'm doing is slowly being developed but sometimes I spend hours inside quite a lot so that only when I go to supermarket I realise I'm in the UK. This is the Greater London Syndrome, I suppose. It won't happen living in Soho.

Yesterday I was burning from boredom that I discovered too late to have missed Kurt Vile who was supposed to play reeeeeally close to my area. And I haven't forgiven myself for this... especially because it was a special solo show, not planned and for only 15 quids. That's a total shame. But I've spent enough time to regret that, so now I can say about my central bank morning trip and the shooting at the good old coloured Borough Market. It all ends up with a chips tea at Central and Co. – opposite Liberty – when I met my two classmates from uni, both working in Soho this month. Nice reunion! It made me almost forget about Kurt.

life in West Hampstead

Today can be resumed as follows: walking West Hampstead to Clapham and cycling back. Now that I've got my bike (borrowed from a friend's friend...) I can crunch my 46 km per day. Maybe it's the weather but I never cycle so much as I do during the summer. Buses shooting at your right and everything – including middleweight cyclists – is very fast-paced. I always think I'm pretty fast, but every time I ride in this city I feel the slowest. But cycling here gives you what I call “the priceless experience”.

 

a London August

 

Every time I step into UK I need a double boost of tea. It seems that it's been such a long time... so that one has to drink all the cups given up in the past.

 

It's nice to be back here anyway, fortunately this August I'll stay cool avoiding some super hot summer somewhere else.

The girls where I'm at this time seem quite cool and not so apprehensive. I reach my flat from West End Lane in a quiet night. The place looks good and I make sure tea is in the cupboard. “What do you have for breakfast?”. None of them drink tea.
Ok, then. That's good. I mean, I can survive till tomorrow morning.

But then I can't believe I haven't found some... I later realise there is a forgotten plastic bag of what they seem PG tips. Lucky night.
It will be a nice stay.

 

In the modern old town, in the land of the second-hand furniture shops, in the city of the big wheel and the pigeons' dome.

moving again

I like when it's raining outside.
It brings a little winter inside summer.

 

I play a mournful song,
I drink a cup more.

 

And then it will be time to leave.
Time to visit you.