Get her to The Garden...

Most of my recent posts have been a tad epic, so I thought I’d limit this one to something a little less ‘War & Peace-esque’. Rather than prattle on for eons I simply want to say that The Garden Museum (near to Lambeth Palace) is one my new favourite ‘mini-museums’! Other members of this select tribe to be discussed at a later date…


Kew Gardens it ain’t. But then neither are they charging a kings ransom to get in! Instead, it is a total charmer on a tiny scale - even the actual garden is petite?!? And yet, it had a wonderful little (a theme is emerging here I feel…) expo on that green fingered genius Christopher Lloyd and his amazing home at Great Dixter (want to live there one day!), as well as some charming permanent exhibitions.

Sitting on the banks of the Thames, The Garden Museum also has a rather gothic ambience (if you can believe such a thing!) thanks to its location in a disused church.Some of the tombstones and memorials have a more than a touch of the macabre (skulls and hydras and snakes, oh my!).



Not quite sure who or what the person entombed inside this crypt must have got up to!


So go see and make it soon! Goodness knows what will happen to The Garden Museum’s funding/subsidies now our beloved new government are at the helm with scythe in hand …

Boat Drinks to the buddleia!

Magic beans...

Whilst the mighty/merciless Starbucks and its bloated brethren consume every spare spot on the high-street, small coffee independents are fast becoming the caffeine equivalent of the woolly mammoth. However tucked away on Delancey Street in NW1 is the Camden Coffee Shop – a purveyor of coffee by the bean (rather than the cup!) and a true gem of a find.



The shop itself is rustic to say the least – it’s more reminiscent of some backstreet bolthole from Dickensian days than a coffee emporium. But here you will find outstanding beans from across the globe; hand roasted on the premises and packaged up with panache in a gloriously 70’s style branded paper bag. You even get a little hand scribbled instruction as to what you’ve purchased and how best to keep it. But if you are looking beyond beans, search elsewhere. There are no overpriced espresso cups, frothing wands, flavoured syrups or any of the other fripperies now associated with a classic cup of Joe. The only other service on offer is to have said beans ground!



A gentleman called George Constaninou has been the proud proprietor since 1978, using an 85 year old roaster that envelops Camden High Street in the most amazing aromas on a daily basis. And let’s face it – the cruddy Camden could do with a bit of a fragrant spritz of something…anything!



In fact it was this scent that drew me to the premises in the first place and is certainly some of the best ‘advertising’ that I’ve encountered in some time. There is nothing particularly chic or customer friendly about the layout – it’s dark and dusty, while all the beans are simply kept in plastic tubs, but the man’s an absolute authority and his prices are so keen its almost embarrassing!

Just when London seems to have obliterated all of its originality, you turn a corner and find one small stand against the high street drones & clones so kudos to you The Camden Coffee Shop!

Boat Drinks Mr Constaninou.

Strange times/signs indeed...

Now I’m pretty certain this is not official London Underground signage…



I really have no idea how I even spotted that the standard issue security warning by the tube door had been replaced with a recipe for a margarita (yes, you read right - a recipe for a margarita…). I mean how often do we actually take in our surroundings whilst riding the tube for the billionth time?!? Particularly those of us who are avid readers (a.k.a fellow passenger avoiders). I can only guess that the part-time alcoholic in me was drawn to the word tequila!

I’ve googled this sign/art installation/cultural commentary using a multitude of combinations and phrases but to no avail, so if anyone knows the answer, please enlighten me!

My hunch is that its purpose/message is to highlight the fact that we never look at these signs even though they are concerned with our personal safety. So they can basically be replaced with anything and yet we are all none the wiser, nor do we care.

Or perhaps there is just someone out there that really loves a good margarita…

Boat Drinks but never tequila!

An ode to the crazies of Camden…

To make my much needed lunchtime escape from the dreary office corner I inhabit, I must run the gauntlet of the Camden streets. No mean feat I assure you!!! People bemoan the vast quantities of tourists (primarily German and Italian students with their bad denim and oddly coloured backpacks) who wander aimlessly (always in the complete opposite direction of the infamous/rubbish market where they actually want to be!?!) but they are quite frankly the least of my worries! This particular corner of North London is the haven for lunatics, mentalists and crackpots of every stripe. It is quite literally ‘Care in the Community’– as in they have a thriving community of crazies living it up in NW1!!!

Now before I get accused of being some delicate home-counties type, I went to school in this area and spent most of my formative years wandering these scummy streets in a drunken haze, so I’m not averse to slumming it. However I am daily confronted with a deluge of the demented and the disturbed (not to mention the hordes of crack addicts and winos!).

Looking like the more prominent cast members of ‘28 Days Later’ (i.e. the zombies that actually get close enough to eat you!) I must confess I often fear that I will not make it back to the office with all of my limbs and/or brain intact, but then when you consider how dull my job is, that may be no bad thing…

Boat Drinks Bedlam!

Fuming yet fashionable...

I just experienced the most horrendous customer service in H&M Camden Town and am now really feeling the need to vent my spleen!

I had the audacity to (very!) politely ask the sullen lump on the changing room who I should speak to about an alternative size. A simple question I would of thought, but he greeted it with a sneer and the dead eyes of an overfed mako shark.


His response basically amounted to telling me not to bother as everything was out on the shop floor already. Having worked in retail I totally appreciate that this could quite possibly be true, but that wasn’t actually the question I put to him. Why couldn’t he just answer with “Oh I can help you with that” or “you need to go to the till and they can check for you” or even “we usually have everything out on the shopfloor but I’ll just have a look for you”, rather than the non verbal equivalent of “stop testing me with your foolish queries, can’t you see I am contemplating how to coax my hair into yet more innovative shapes”…

And do they literally not have a stock room?!? I’m sure by the time I visited this PM, they may have sold at least one or two garments since opening their doors that morning. Why oh why work in a job that makes you so utterly jaded and bitter?!? Or feel that same job empowers you to be amazingly rude to complete strangers. Retail can be total hell (I am a seasoned veteran), but I used to welcome the rare occasion when I actually got to converse with a vaguely polite customer. Most members of the public don’t even deign to acknowledge your existence!

This little exchange ended with my thanking him for his wonderful customer service (with a healthy side order of sarcasm) and him (equally tartly) telling me to have a good day (which he actually shouted at my retreating back). Wish I hadn’t then headed to the tills and made a purchase!?! I should have stuck to my principles and given them zero pennies of my hard won cash. But I oh so wanted those jeans…I am truly weak.
Although I did take some comfort from the fact that the guy at the till was totally pleasant to me...

Boat Drinks to the Till Guy!

Elephants invade London...

A somewhat stationary parade of elephants has descended upon the capital.


All in aid of a good cause naturally (do we ever do things just for fun anymore?!?), these slightly lurid pachyderms have been organised by the Elephant Family charity, who believe people will look beyond the photo opportunity and be far more mindful of the plight of elephants in the wild…


Boat Drinks Dumbo!

A glum start...

I came across these ‘Reward’ posters on my journey to work and what a very depressing start to the day it was too. My heart simultaneously sank and was gripped with fear. Did I double lock my door??? Then I remembered that the homestead hadn’t been left vacant and that my husband was there to fight off the thieving hordes - phew! Although naturally I would prefer that he not have to do battle with a band of rampaging robbers unless strictly necessary…



I admire the bravery and the hopeful honesty of their plea. They have lost irreplaceable treasures (even if they are of the technological variety). They won’t mean squat to the person that pillaged them, so why shouldn’t the victim call them out (under the auspicious of offering a reward)!

I know it is highly unlikely, but if by some slim chance the culprits see these signs and would permit themselves a bit of a Frank Capra-esque softening, I just know this city would be a (somewhat) nicer place to live in.

Boat Drinks for the Optimists!

Bile for the Thieves!!