I met a couple of girlfriends on Sunday for a late lunch – a dunch if you will or linner at a rather delightful cafe-cum-shop called DrinkShopDo in King’s Cross. As the title suggests, this is a multi-functional facility. You can drink, (which we did wholeheartedly), you can shop (we bought our drinks) and you can do (and drink is what we ‘do’-ed). Actually, the ‘shop’ in the cafe’s name refers to the fact that everything there is for sale, not just the artwork on the walls, the sculptures but the furniture too (actually I’m not sure about the furniture – I don’t want to cause any awkward scenes later as people drag their chairs to the cash register to pay for them).
I love Sunday afternoons. They’re a magic space of timelessness where all hours exit in unison and not at all. The weekend is ebbing away but the working week is yet to begin. Every glass of wine feels ten times naughtier on a Sunday afternoon, a roast dinner, the banquet of royalty and every movie, an epic escape into magical kingdoms – even if it is Alvin and The Chipmonks II.
One of my favourite places to spend Sunday afternoon is Regent’s Park, a hybrid space of coiffured lawns, organised wilderness, band stands, tennis courts and as many middleclass people fumbling their way through a game of softball as you’d ever hoped to see.
If Hampstead Heath are the ‘lungs of London’ then Regent’s Park is definitely the nostrils, in the nicest way. Doing something Sunday-ish steels you for the week ahead. I highly recommend it. Whatever annoyances befall you from Monday through to Friday, you can always reminisce, musing, I’ll always have my time in London’s nasal passages.