This afternoon my flatmate Rory and I wandered (and by wandered I mean took a bus and two trains) to Notting Hill to take a walk down Portobello Road. It was the nicest day, felt just like spring feels at home (maybe even nicer) which, for a Newfoundlander, is unheard of in February.
Going to North West London is like leaving one city and heading into another. It's such a completely different vibe from South East, and it was a nice change. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE living where I do, but a change of scenery is always nice.
We sauntered down Portobello road, stopping in antique shops and fawning over every dog we saw. At one point two black pugs wandered past us tied to one another, seemingly taking each other for a walk. Getting a dog is common talk in our house, but I think maybe it's more of a far-fetched daydream than a real possibility.
We stopped to take pictures in front of cool cars (Rory actually owns a yellow one like the green one I'm posing with, it's just up in Edinburgh getting fixed up), had a chicken bake from Gregg's and then bought a Sunday paper and had a hot chocolate, half reading the paper and half commenting on passerby's and their dogs.
I feel like I say this every week, but Sunday's in London always seem to be the best days.