Just Out and About

A proper good morning to you.
This morning after some grocery shopping, I went on an excursion to Mayfair.
I set out west down Oxford Street this morning and walked up and down Regent’s Street. This is a most handsome boulevard. At street level there are total luxury brand shops with modern and very lick-worthy picture windows. But above that the buildings show a remarkable architectural unity. This road along with Regent’s Park was the project of John Nash, whose vision appealed to the future George IV, so anyone wishing to practice the identification of classical elements will have a field day with the pilasters, engaged columns, and even the occasional trigylph.
I even went in some of the stores, because I was scouting for anything I might want to buy as I get Christmas and some birthday presents when I’m abroad. Most of the time I quickly staggered out again suffering from sticker shock, but I also helped myself to fancy scents. I took a good look around Liberty which is set off of Regent’s Street because its Tudor style would not go with the rest of the street.
Then I strolled on Piccadilly visiting venerable old Hatchards—the coolest bookstore in the Galaxy. It was founded in the eighteenth century and has a half-timbered look, but none of that would matter if it did not also have a fabulous stock. I saw many books I wished to read, and fortunately my local library will eventually buy some of them. I’ll be going back to get a book for the plane ride home, but it will be hard to choose!
A bit further down the street is Fortnum and Mason, and I found the Food Hall nearly empty when I popped in to buy more tea. The shop assistant who helped me congratulated me for being early. Well, I wasn’t that early, but maybe the other tourists were out reveling.
Then I walked up both Old and New Bond Streets turned right and walked a few blocks down Oxford Street to Selfridge. Do you know what they have there? A gelato bar! I had some caramel yumminess and chocolato-hazelnut richness. I sat and enjoyed, resting my feet tucked away in a corner near the champagne bar from whence I watched bemused as the barman kept topping off his customer’s flute. At that time of day?
Feeling refreshed, I tubed home on the Central Line, dumped off my tea and started off again. I walked through Lincoln’s Inn fields and buildings to Chancery Lane. That street name always makes me think of Dickens. But it was another literary figure I was after.
Samuel Johnson, whom I quoted quite a few posts ago lived in a little city square just off Chancery and Fetter Lanes, and his house is open to the public although it has kind of odd hours.
It is interesting as an well-preserved example of an eighteenth century middle class townhouse, and I enjoyed it for that reason, but there are few authentic items dating from Johnson or his time.
All that walking has built up an appetite as you can imagine. I am treating myself to a sort of high tea. High tea does not mean fancy. It actually means late and meal-like, but it’s not that late. I’m just home watching the final time trial of the Tour de France, but I got a sausage roll.
I happen to like them and back in my B and B days sometimes they were a mainstay of snacks and meals. You take a sausage, roll it in flaky pastry. Bake. Serve. Consume with gusto. A cup of tea or a half pint of beer or cider are equally appropriate.
Cherrio.