A perfect place for a sunny Friday evening. Perfect therapy for a week spent nervously at a desk. Michael was late, so was forced to lie still, for a blissful hour, in the sunshine. Oh the hardships of life. In my hallucinogenically relaxed state, I spotted many interesting things in the sky. This little baby chick for example...
Wishing to cheer up a harrassed, London-weary Michael, I procured some of the finest picnic goods I could find (on my walk from Marylebone to Primrose Hill, through Regent's Park. Had spotted this incredible sushi place earlier in the day, behind Baker St station, so went back for the most giant box I could find. Haru it's called, and it's so secret that there's only one mention of it on the entire internet. I have to say, one of the finest boxes of sushi I've had in London. Fresh, sharp, delicious. And not too expensive either. I categorically decided there and then never to lay my hands on a tray of sad pink sponges sitting on rice rocks from Tesco et al ever again.
Plus of course the compulsory MandS not just any picnic fare - settled on greek meze, veg, strawberries and blueberries. Drink was Breton cider found in a Nicolas shop after refusing to buy Magners in Tesco (anyone Irish will tell you the same - it's Bulmers, you're supposed to drink it out of a 2 litre bottle on a roadside when you're 15).
Sigh, looking at it now I can still smell the grass and taste the sashimi as I sit at my sad plywood desk.
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