An odd posting if you consider I just returned from hols in France and Switzerland.

I visited the South Bank today for a wander around the Slow Foods market and a general gander outdoors. After a week lost in Europe I just wanted to get out into familiar territory and chill. At the market, I had a Somerset Brie and Tomato Provencal crepe and ended with a coffee and a portuguese custard tart, whilst sampling the organic sights and smells of lamb kofta burgers, bratwurst, olives, cakes and oysters.

Wandering down underneath the Golden Jubilee bridge, there was a 3-man band playing catchy samba-esque beats – with one on trumpet, one on accordian and one on ‘percussion’, which was pretty much a plastic container. Tourists and locals stopped and listened with grins on their faces as a father danced with his toddler in front of the trumpeter, flailing the youngster’s arms to the music.

I browsed in Foyles, and spotted under the Children’s Books sections, two from my childhood – The Tiger Who Came to Tea by Judith Kerr and Where the Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak. Aah, waves of nostalgia..Looking at the pictures in the latter, I swear my creativity was swelled and nurtured by the drawings in this book – before GCSE art crushed it all….

Finally I tottered over to under Westminster Bridge where there is often a book fair – spending my time looking at every single spine, i picked out Xiaolu Guo’s “A Concise Chinese/English dictionary for lovers‘ which, from my five minutes experience, seems to be a very funny depiction of an Amy Tan novel melded with Lost in Translation. I’m not nearly cultured enough but I love picking out a decent book – as ridiculously reliant I am on the internet ( I craved like an addict whilst on hols), theres some simple pleasure to be derived from ink, paper, and a catchy title (I do judge books on their covers). I decided on the bus ride back home that before I leave London, I’ll figure out a way to describe why I ♥ it. Something to do with the familiarity, the lack of identity/blending of cultures, and hell, its London, right?