On Saturday I decided to go to Borough Market. What a good idea. Here's what £50 will buy you. Coincedently the exact amout of money I would spend on a neatly folded bindle on a Friday night.
A whole fresh red snapper, A jar of Mediterranean tomato pickle, a jar of Roman mustard, a packet of Spanish deep fried broad beans, some amazing rye breads, some spanish goat cheese (a good sized wedge), a punnet of delicious queen olives, a packet of Quinoa (my new favourite grain-not-grain), some organic pasta, soy milk, some decadent pieces of fudge, and to munch on, a smoothie, a spinich and feta tartlet. Oh and a few scallops that I devoured in a split second.
Needless to say, my bags we're bulging, and my belly was following suit. I'm glad I had only £50, because whatever money I had on me, I would have spent it. Easily. The rest of the day was spent nibbling, reading music magazines. Very civilised, well for me anyway. Usually on a Saturday afternoon, I'm a total mess, either trying to take my excess to dizzing heights, or at the boozer trying to get down from those dizzing heights.
Saturday night, Mikey and Smackie came round and we had the fish for dinner, which was sublime. Then we trekked down to the Ritzy and saw A Life Aquatic. Wes Anderson, you are one stylish mofo. Every shot was planned to perfection, every piece of dialogue honed. It was a curious, slow burning film, that kept me amused for the entire length. Not to forget the great David Bowie soundtrack, sung entirely in Portuguese and on an acoustic guitar. I had goosebumps. A good film, not his best though, but very good none the less.
Sunday was a nice lazy day, full of odd surprises and a few belly laughs. Went to Spitalfields market with Mikey. Not what I was hoping for to be honest. I expected a lot more cool clothes for guys. We ended up just gorging on food. A nice vege curry, some really, really good dried figs, (which wasn’t a figment of my dried fig) and a banana and maple syrup crepe, and a fruit filled smoothie that was to die for. Killed a bit of time and headed back to Brixton just in time for the Comedy Club. Suffice to say it was fantastic! Didn't laugh as hard and as maniacally as Smacked Face and Ms.G though. They we're positively cackling and snorting thier was through the entire set. They were almost as fun to watch as the talent up on the stage.
Oddness spotted on the weekend.
A frail, gay old man on crutches, dressed in Union Jack Boxer shorts with a chain across the front, studded belt, a string vest and what seemed to be a cape, complete with a big brooch trying to hop on the tube at Stockwell. An old lady walking her ferrets, complete with little ferret harnesses. A weird loner at the movies who had the most fucked up laugh, who laughed when no one else did, and then left before the end of the film? Last but not least, a lady in the row in front of us at the comedy club set her own hair on fire.
God I love London.