A blissful pocket of time

My wonderful weekend took me by surprise, as most truly wonderful weekends do. It approached without obligation or expectation, and evolved quite organically into a blissful and luxurious pocket of time. It started Saturday morning with the arrival of Dan and blueberry pancakes. It continued when we noticed a clear and bright blue sky, and we decided it would be criminal to lounge inside all day long. We headed to Borough Market.

Borough market is one of my favourite places in the world. Especially on a beautiful winter's day, when you can warm your hands with mulled apple and pear juice (or honey and lemon in the case of a coldy Dan) and stroll around stalls of delectable delicacies with tempting tasters. Feeling carefree and slightly frivolous, we headed to Fish! for lunch. Fish! is set in a greenhouse type building in the very heart of the bustling market, with chefs whacking lobsters and battering cod infront of your very eyes. I chose a creamy, cheesy, cloying fish pie. The wine was a crisp white, and the mood was effervescent, light and happy.

A quick dash around the market before it closed armed us with supper sustenance: bread, cheese, freshly pressed apple juice and a gigantic chocolate brownie. We headed towards the river, and carried right on to Tower Bridge, where the up-lit Tower loomed at us from across the water. Flanked by modern infrastructure, it reminds me what an ancient and historic city I live in, and how magical and special that is. It was particularly special to behold through the eyes of an American, who had never ventured that way before. Familiar places become new and exciting in his company. We beat the darkness to the tube, and journeyed home with our market provisions.

Sunday morning hosted a Mad Men marathon with coffee and croissants. Morning slyly shifted into 3 o'clock in the afternoon, and so in an effort to see some daylight and exercise our languid limbs, we set off for our customary walk through Clapham Common. The ducks were treated to leftover bread, and we managed to avoid any serious altercations with Canada geese. An enviable success in the face of their vicious and unpredictable natures. The pug sighting also proved to be a highlight. We warmed up with hot chocolate in a ramshackle French bistro, and headed home to bake pasta and sip wine by candlelight in our pyjamas. It really was as lovely as it sounds. Sleep came quickly. And sadly Monday morning arrived quicker still.