Yesterday I took a trip down memory lane. I visited Borough Market for the first time in over a year. It was very hot and humid and sadly many of the stall were not open-reminder next time not to go on a Tuesday. Actually I went on that day as Beka had suggested we meet and go to an art exhibition afterwards. As I anticipated not getting back until the evening I didn't buy anything other than lunch and a cold drink-not sure fresh produce would have survived in the heat and humidity of an Indian Summer on London.
Having done the market I retired to a tried and tested pub. Had a couple of wonderful pints of Tribute in the St Christopher's Inn. It is a place I knew well in the its former guise as the Grapes. The Grapes lies in the shadow of the hospital I spent 4 months in in 1994. As I sat there I recalled all the names of those who had been there with me-I wondered who got better, who didn't, and sadly, the inevitable deaths. That is the way in the dark world of madness. That place will forever stick in my memory.
I had a very bad night of nightmares and got up far too early. The sleeping is not going well on this holiday. The plan today was to go to St Alban's but recalling the heat of yesterday the thought of spending 2 hours on a hot bus did not appeal so I changed plans. Did some shopping and had a fry up instead. So tonight it is a lamb, potato, broad bean and pea tagine with mint from a book dad gave me for my birthday.
And now I think an afternoon of Mozart and reading is on the cards.
I Heard a Voice.
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