I know that I disapprove of people moaning about the weather. Particularly when it rains. We need rain! You have a coat / a car / a house! Stay in them and you should be fine!
But it is hot in London. Yesterday it got up to 34C (93 F). We ended up going out in Spitalfields yesterday evening. Galvin La Chapelle was full until 9pm (unsurprisingly) so they suggested we go to Galvin Hop. And it was bad. Service was slow – to the point where all the tables around us were moaning – and my husband’s main course was horrid so he sent it back. It’s always rather uncomfortable when one complains in a restaurant. He was right to do so – and did so in a very nice way – but we ended up speaking to three people in turn and it did sour the evening. Perhaps they couldn’t really cope with the number of people they get on a hot evening.
This morning, I noticed a superficially polite but actually really rather vicious argument between a man and a woman queuing for theatre tickets at the Almeida. They’re doing Richard III with Ralph Fiennes and Vanessa Redgrave – and filming it – so demand for tickets is high.
My son is also poorly – on Monday night he was breathing in a strange way so I took him to the doctor on Tuesday morning. My husband thought it might be whooping cough (which he was vaccinated for) but the doctor told me that it was something called croup. I had thought this was a disease that people only got in the 19th century or in Enid Blyton but the doctor said, while unusual, it still exists. So he is off preschool. We are sitting under the fan in the kitchen listening to next door’s builders do their hammering and stuff.
I will be more cheerful when I post next time. Have a look at this cool meadow in the art gallery round the corner.