Countryside, how novel

I've heard there's this thing called 'the countryside', involving mud, narrow roads, and a lot of trees. So today R and I ventured out of town in a quest to find the New Forest. We failed on that front, but did however manage to land on the Devil's Punchbowl*, a mere hour from London. V cool. And *very* cold. A bracing walk marked the start of our inaugural SPARK awayday. Unfortunately R got a nasty dose of acid reflux on a particularly taxing hill, but apart from that, the day passed delightfully. Felt v uplifted by how beautiful the English countryside was on such a blue-skied, crisp day.

Still, such rural idyll is a bit of a disappointment on the opening hours front, as we discovered when we tried to get a much needed lunch at 2.15pm, only to find that all the pubs stop serving at 2pm, and fully close between 3 and 5pm, bar the Two-for-One somewhere near Greatham (found thanks to a combination of AQA and SatNav, hurrah). We hid in here until about 6.30pm, at which point the influx of local Christmas parties all got a bit too much and we scurried back to the Big Smoke, grateful for our urban existences and all that they bring.

* random facts about the Devil's Punchbowl. 1. It is owned by the national trust, which I must join, but not as much as English Heritage. 2. It's called that thanks to a myth about the devil hurling lots of mud at the god Thor, leaving a bloody big hole in the ground. 3. It is one of the BBC's seven man made wonders. fascinating.

Nights in

Somehow, in the last 48 hours I have managed to watch two films involving Julia Roberts. Thankfully neither of them were Notting Hill, but all the same. I don't like Julia Roberts (in this, it appears I am not alone). Although I haven't seen Erin Brockovich, which I hear is excellent.

Anyway. Films what I watched. First up was Closer, which I enjoyed much more on second viewing, although I still don't understand why Jude's character falls for Anna (to be fair I never understand why anyone falls for Julia's characters). Dodgy storylines aside, I just love the scenes from London in it. I got very overexcited to see the Postman's Park featuring - a place I've mentioned before, and which I maintain is one of the more romantic corners of London. Had I know its significance in Closer, I *definitely* would have taken more care about who I went with...

If Closer is all about our endless capacity to screw up love, the second film I watched, this time tonight, over a tragic supper of old bread and broccoli soup (woe is me!), wants us to believe that true love wins through every time. Yep, it was My Best Friend's Wedding. Can't believe I chose it over an episode of Spooks... I must be feeling sorry for myself as I found myself just a tiny bit tired and emotional at the scene in the ladies' loos. Really must pull myself together. Or give in to the urge and re-watch Bridget Jones.

Filling my holiday

I am getting more and more excited about that fact that I am on holiday (Costa del Vauxhall, here we come) from 22nd December until 14th January. To that end I have spent this morning in a marathon Time Out session, finding things to do and places to go to keep me out of trouble. In no particular order...

Seeing is believing, on at the Bargehouse at the Oxo Tower. An exhibition which sounds like an about-time reminder of the shocking poverty that some people still live in - I'm relieved to see it as most of the time such living conditions are all but edited out of news and current affairs. On till 31st December, daily 11am-4pm.

The art of Lee Miller, at the V&A museum. If there was ever a multi-talented woman, she's it - model, photographer, journalist. Someone to admire and, in my ongoing quest for female icons, a brilliant counter to the current spice girls fever that's taken over london. Also on at the V&A is an exhibition of the 'golden age' of couture - a chance to bone up on the kind of look I'm going to need for K's birthday party in February. Both shows end on Jan 6th.

Dennis Severs' house in Spitalfields, which is rather like a permanent Punchdrunk production in a house. It's not open much, usually, but between now and 4th Jan, if you book you can go on 27th and 28th between 12 and 4pm, or Jan 2-4 between 6 and 9pm. Sounds magical.

The painting of modern life at the Hayward, until 30th Dec. I find the Hayward an odd gallery - fabulous space but often frustratingly used, and hopeless crowd control. But I do want to see this exhibition before it closes so I'd better get on with it.

War Horse, in rep at the National Theatre until Jan 12th. So many people have now told me that this show is brilliant, against all the odds, that I really must go.

The Potted Potter at the Trafalgar Studios. OK, so I got as far as book 3 and then struggled so Harry Potter has become another gap in my cultural knowledge, along with Star Wars and the Lord of the Rings. This show is just what I need. On till 5th Jan. May need to nick a kid so that I look less odd going...

Yesssss - Kneehigh doing fairy tales

Oh joy. I've just seen that Kneehigh are putting on a performance of Rapunzel at the QEH over Christmas. Review here. Booking here. Me banging on about last time I saw Kneehigh doing a fairy tale here. Bring. It. On.

Culture, innit

On Thursday I pretended to be a lady of leisure, and met my lovely friend K for a late, boozy lunch at the Rex Whistler restaurant at Tate Britain. After a gentle meander around the Millais exhibition, I went down to the cafe and we were ushered into the beautiful room of the restaurant - murals all round, great food, and a very, very good way of wiling away the best part of an afternoon talking about boys (turns out we fancy the same ones, and emotional fuckwits generally. great...). I love hanging around with K. We followed it up with some shopping at the bizarre Army and Navy on Victoria St, whose only saving grace is the cafe at the top, which is good for hiding in. Still, shopping when a bit pissed is never that smart, and I now have a rather expensive jacket that B and J both agreed was 'overpriced and too many buttons'. hey ho. I'll just have to return it and buy something else...

The plan was to continue into the evening but for various reasons that didn't happen. So instead I headed off for more culture - this time a beautiful concert at St John's Smith Square (wicked) - carols and a bunch of Christmas music which was brilliant. All performed by Chantage, apparently the BBC Choir of the Year 2006, but to be honest even typing that makes me feel about 50. As my date put it - 'carol singing - karaoke for the middle classes'. Still, I sung my heart out, melted at the organ playing, and went home happy, and thinking I could get used to doing nothing very much with my time.

Love is all around me

When I started writing this blog, I wasn't quite thirty, and I wasn't quite a homeowner, I didn't have a man and I didn't know what I wanted to do with my life. Today has rather challenged the whole name of this blog, being my 30th birthday etc, but hey, it's all about a mindset, right? Oh and I suppose I've owned a flat for a few months too, but frankly the big questions that really matter are yet to be answered. Hunting for men and meaning look set to continue for some time yet.

But I'm really fine with that. I've had such a lovely day, full of love, affection, friendship and warmth that I feel quite overwhelmed by it all. I am incredibly lucky and today has been all about realising that and savouring the feeling. Which I did in various places, with various lovely people. Beyond the medium of text (oh to have a phone with some proper memory so I could store messages) and FB, these places included Leon, which, joy of joys, gives FREE wifi access. Now there's a place I'll buy coffee. In fact I'm due back there tomorrow morning, this time the Carnaby Street branch, with my mad and lovely mother at some unfeasibly early hour. Another feature of today was Joe Allen's, which I just love, especially seeing the pleasure in my father's face when he realised you really *can* order the hamburger, even though it's not on the menu... We'll perhaps gloss over the Thistle hotel in Victoria, where I spent two hours hatching plans. Despite the plotting, which was enormous fun, it's really not a place I can recommend.

Anyway. For those of you who have suggested the name of this blog is now out of date: I was thirty at 12.01pm today, and therefore (if I'm being pedantic) I remain notquitethirty... and besides, no one's yet come up with a better name...

Steaks, mmm

It's a strange fact of my life that everyone always thinks I'm vegetarian. It's a mystery to me, but I'm pleased to declare that I am really rather fond of proper meat these days (although Macdonald's can still go to hell). So sometimes a girl's got to eat steak. Generally speaking, I do it with a glass of red wine in front of a good film on a Sunday night. But I think I may have found a place where I'd like to depart from this ritual. The Bountiful Cow in Holborn is a rare find: a really lovely, warm pub, serving various forms of MEAT (as in proper, hardcore meat - i mean they even had rillettes on the menu), decent sized tables, space. I like. I like a lot.

I haven't yet sampled their food, as I've only been for a drink there (and a strangely comforting and honest conversation with S), but I fully intend to return when it's time for my red meat hit.

Other places that I'd like to eat meat include St John (still not been, in truth I'm a little intimidated), and the Cheyne Walk brasserie, which is possibly one of the prettiest restaurants I've ever been to, and a great line in cooking your steak or whatever on the grill in the restaurant. It's been too long since I ate duck at Mon Plaisir; and one of these days I want to get to Roast in Borough Market.

Remembering Jim at Conway Hall

Last night I went to my dear friend's father's memorial service. What an amazing man. There was an incredible turnout - as far as I could tell, most of London's psychiatrists, psychoanalysts and lawyers were all there to remember a man who had fought for human rights and justice all the way through his life. Although as S and I said to each other, it's kind of weird as we primarily saw him as our friend's father and, when we were little, a useful taxi service. G was beautiful and amazing as usual, and she and her brothers made us all laugh with their memories of their father.

The service was held at Conway Hall in Red Lion Square, which I've never been to before. It's a fabulous art deco hall, built in the 20s, with the ambition of being a place where "men and women of advanced thought could meet and enjoy the amenities of social discourse, with facilities for writing, rest and refreshment." So like the RSA then, but with a distinctly more radical heritage. What I loved most is that it's also the place that Jim and K got married, with K wearing green velvet, of course.

Conway Hall occassionally hosts some pretty interesting-looking discussions. Keep an eye out.

Bowling: leave it alone

Tonight I found myself at possibly the most bizarre work party I've ever been to. It was at the bowling alley just opposite the Institute of Education, aka the not-cool bowling venue of Bloomsbury, as opposed to this (god, I don't even LIKE bowling, how can I know about two places in such a small part of London??). One of those parties where it was completely impossible to work out who the hell everyone was, or why they were there - clearly something everyone was feeling, given the amount of looking-over-shoulders going on.

So I beat a swift exit with Mr Innovation Guru D, only to find ourselves holed up in the equally dire bar of Bonnington's hotel. I learnt two things there: one, that 'NU' stands for Newcastle in football terms (1 all in penalties, gripping, obviously); and two, more interestingly, that the dreadful bar we were in is in fact a historical site, being the place that Wilson's 'Bonnington group' dreamt up a series of catchphrases including 'the white heat of technology'.

I, however, will remember it most for being the place that I finally decided that I'm done with local govt. Time to draft the resignation letter, I think. And to celebrate that I'm drinking far too much wine tonight, and planning to fail to get up tomorrow to get to work on time. Hah. Feel very excited and free.

A tick on the to do list

Yesterday I finally made it to Kew (it's only taken me nearly three decades!). How magical to have such a beautiful space so close to Vauxhall - to my delight I found you can get there directly, when the trains aren't broken...

Anyway. Went ice-skating with B. It was lovely.

I don't want to be a grown up

On the cold, wet and miserable day that was Friday, J-J and I fought against the elements, and made it to the champagne bar at St Pancras, as noted in a previous post. What a station. I really loved it - everything from the beautiful blue girders, through to the considerate announcements over the tannoy about a couple who had left a pink bag in their taxi. OK, so the waiting staff were bordering on outrageously rude, but they had great uniforms and frankly nothing was going to get in the way of a J-J/SP night out.

We were remembering previous evenings of fun. Like the time we rocked up at the Met bar at the height of its popularity. Our chances of getting in looked pretty glum, until some considerate soul hurled a cupcake (?? - don't ask me why) out of a window high above us. It landed on my head, and in alarm, the doormen waved us in. Or the time we ended up at G-A-Y getting a little too friendly with some randoms. The less said about that one the better, I think. Endless nights out in the shitty pubs of Westminster village also feature heavily in our back catalogue, alongside a host of random unidentified injuries, embarrassing texts and gender-bending antics. Happy times, guaranteed carnage and a lot of laughter. Who wants to grow up and have dinner parties?

Stolen moments

Today I found myself speaking at the most BORING conference in the world. Ever. Finished my slot at 2.30pm and just couldn't face politely hanging around for coffee, so I disappeared back into the world, and discovered to my delight that I was of course of Berners Street, and therefore very near the Sanderson hotel. A quick time calculation later (next meeting at 4.30pm) I found myself in there with a coffee fantasising about being the kind of person who (a) has amazing clothes (b) gets her hair cut at Vidal Sasson every 6 weeks and (c) is perfectly poised, even when no-one's looking. Lovely. The Sanderson is good, very good. I intend to return for cocktails, asap.

Even I struggled to spin an americano out for two hours, so I also had time (well, technically, clearly I should have been doing something else but hey) to check out the new M&S on Oxford Street. Their refurbishment is now complete and slightly bizarrely they decided to celebrate their re-launch by posting a woman on stilts at the entrance (not cool) and providing free rickshaws to and from the store (more cool). However - they have done a good job. Whatever you think about M&S, you can't fault their bras or sandwiches. So I bought one of each, and got to my next meeting happy and rather pleased with myself for reclaiming my day.

Non-blog

Why are there no good films on at the moment?????

At the end of the 344 bus route...

Today I dedicated two hours of my time to the lovely 344 bus (is there *ever* a time when there aren't roadworks between here and Liverpool Street??). But it was worth it: I was hot on the trail of Hidden Art, a bit like Open House for artists, designers and creators. It has reconfirmed, thank god, that not all of London has yet become one big chainstore (not that I'm complaining too much about TopShop). Visited tonnes of tiny little shops around Hanbury and Cheshire Streets, pretending I was a pro shopper for all things interior-related.

I also made my way to Spitalfields market, which was rammed, as ever, where I salivated as quietly as I could over various lights, sideboards and mirrors. I think I will be returning come January when the flat gets made over. There's something in those shops that just makes me want everything. Potentially lethal, but so much more fun than IKEA.

My trail tailed off as I got distracted by Columbia Road flower market, where I spent a good hour simply unable to decide what flowers to buy from such an embarrassment of riches. Predictably I have come home empty handed, but full of ideas and places to return to in January.

It's been a good day: my wanderings were to the music of St Vincent, which is surely one of the best albums of the year (although the live performance S and I saw of her at the Electroacoustic Club really sucked, disappointingly); also, there's a crispness in the air which always gives me a curious mix of nostalgia, whimsy, and anticipation all rolled into one. I want it to be Christmas now.

Distractions

So sometimes a girl just doesn't want to go out. Tonight, despite every bone in my body telling me to go home, I attempted some fun at Skylon, which I am determined to get to one of these days. Turns out it wasn't going to be today, as S and I were barred from getting in thanks to some camera crew, no doubt filming the endless chic and delicious cocktails that I probably shouldn't have been drinking on a Tuesday night anyway.

So we had a drink to celebrate S's new and beautiful relationship in the main hall. Shame I forgot I'm a member of the Southbank Centre - although let's face it, their member's bar isn't a lot to write home about; that said, first call on tickets to Doris Lessing and JG Ballard makes it massively worth it...

Anyway. I found myself home earlier than necessarily planned and trying to ignore a certain amount of post-last-week-date radio silence. I've been distracting myself thinking about all the things I could be doing if I wasn't working so hard, courtesy of Kultureflash - surely the best site of the year, and much less commercial than Urban Junkies, which I was horrified to see advertised on the crappy TV, otherwise known as noise pollution, that blights every journey I take on the Heathrow Express.

I plan to do the lottery on Saturday so that I can quit all my jobs and become a full time Londoner.

Au revoir, Lav

So tonight I visited the Lavender for the last time and now I'm sad. I've been going there for 6 years now, and still remember the first time I went, with M and my parents, to have a glass of wine and discuss why it was that buying a tiny, almost uninhabitable flat for £250k in Stockwell was such a bad idea (clue: it was none of the reasons stated here).

Since then I've been countless times, but in the last 18 months it really has come into its own as the haven that C and I retreat to every fortnight or so for exactly the same thing (she: chicken, no red wine jus crap, glass of chianti; me: tomato bruschetta and rocket, glass of sauv blanc; us: extensive gossip of all things work and boy related). I am just SO SAD that it is closing. We have yet to formulate a plan B that combines the same things of ridiculous proximity to both of us, great waiters who know us inside out, and guaranteed table.

There are of course other branches, as I well know - after all I did live above one of them for 2 years. The good news is that the closure of 'our' branch sees their pizza oven being donated to the Vox branch. And then there's the one on Lavender Hill. I remember going there once with GJ, only to find their oven was broken (this has happened to me three times, am I a jinx I wonder??) so there was nothing to do other than resort to wine.

Goodbye Lavender, we will miss you.

Railway stations: not just for transit you know

Against all the odds, and because I'm a hopeless romantic (or a transport geek) I love railway stations. So I am *very* excited that I've just arranged a night out at the new champagne bar at St Pancras. Can't wait to see what they've done to the station to restore it. And Paul Day's statue for the new Eurostar terminal gets at why stations can be so very sexy. They're about hellos and goodbyes, departures and arrivals, and as such most of us have at least one or two important and emotional moments that have taken place under the timetable boards, when everything goes still and we become oblivious to the noise of announcements, and the impatient rushing of the commuters determined to get their seat at whatever cost.

The thing is, until St Pancras, there's been nothing to like about stations apart from them being sites of these important moments. So despite the retail hell that characterises most London stations, I'm inexplicably happy every time I go to Paddington, reminded of the many hilarious train journeys I've had with friends as we head down to Cornwall. Victoria reminds me of being a teenager, finally allowed to go out with mates, and always being just a teeny bit panicky that I'd miss the train or end up on the non-stopping one to Bromely South. Kings Cross is somehow more associated with work; every time I'm there I seem to be late, worried the train I need is actually going from Euston, and too short of time to buy coffee.

But I guess it's Waterloo that holds the most history for me. First kisses at the top of the escalators, trips to and from Paris to see G, hell, I was even offered my first ever real job at this station. So why can't we have more stations in the St Pancras/Grand Central station genre, and less in the 'you wanna shit coffee? you wanna queue for 10 hours for a machine that doesn't work? you wanna pay 20p to pee in god-forsaken toilets?' vein. Let's hope that the interest and excitement around the new Eurostar terminal kickstarts a desire to find a way of recognising that curious place that railway stations hold in most of our hearts. And that St Pancras proves that all good stations should have champagne bars. That would make me very happy.

Random Italians that I love

I had a brilliant night tonight with a bunch of old friends brought together by the medium otherwise known as Facebook. Rather than waffle on about the power of social networking, or wondering how it is that we all ended up working in social policy one way or another, I'll talk instead about Italian restaurants that I think are cool.

That's because we wound up at Italian Graffiti, possibly a contender for my top five restaurants in London. B, who was there tonight, remembers going there as a kid with his ma for glamorous lunches. Don't think the decor has changed. Cheap, good house wine, great venue, all round top marks from me. Went there first with J-J, one brilliant night where we wound up at Trash Palace via some free champagne (thank you essex banker boy) at the Soho Hotel.

Other wonderful Italians. Well, Ciao Bella has already had its very own posting here. Then there's Donna Margherita, totally unexpected but a delight after any trip to the Battersea Arts Centre, as I found last night after seeing The Human Computer with yet another J. Spiga is a place I've not been to for too long but will be eternally seared onto my brain as the place my beloved G came out to me, over large number of negronis.

And of course there's the Vineyard of Italy in Vauxhall, worth going to simply to enjoy the rudeness of Jay, the human rights student slash waiter who is kind enough to grace said venue with his presence. Currently in receivership, which is gutting, but I am praying it returns in one form or another. Not least because it's five minutes from my house.

China in your hand

Ever since I went to Shanghai in 2004 I've been on the look out for good Chinese places in London. It's now the standard Time Out line to assert that the days of bad tempered waiters and MSG on Gerrard Street are over; but it's still hard to find places that really hit the spot. I'm not a Chinese purist but what I want is the tastes and colours of the orient. my that sounds colonial.

Of course, there's Hakkasan, where I went, unexpectedly, for dinner with J a few weeks ago. Sadly my unpreparedness meant I was carrying a luminous yellow Snappy Snaps carrier bag. Pure class. Not necessarily my accessory of choice for a place so stuffed with carefully produced women in expensive clothes. However, I don't think it's so much better than Bam-Bou that it can justify its eye-watering prices. Bam-Bou: heaven, via Caprice Holdings. I could eat their salt and pepper beef forever. And the bar at the top is one of the best kept secrets of the west end. Don't really know why I'm talking about it here in fact. Shanghai Blues also deserves a mention - the food's not anything special, but I love their upstairs cocktail bar and they play great jazz.

However, for those times when a full-on meal is not in order, there's always Yauatcha. Though it's not easy to get in there - in which case I am seriously impressed by a new discovery - Dim T. I went to the one on Charlotte Street, but there are others, including one at London Bridge, otherwise known as a depressing food desert. Really good dim sum, amazingly cheap and would you believe it, they even have a branch in Maidstone. That means there is a reason to go to Maidstone. Incredible.

Other places I'd like to try but haven't yet: Pearl Liang (Sheldon Squ), Royal China Club (Baker St), and Bar Shu (Frith St)...

Dancing queens and jive bunnies

So last night A and I were reminiscing about the time he threw me around the room (we called it 'dancing') at an otherwise rather dull party. Thanks to a good amount of wine drinking then, as well as last night, we were congratulating ourselves on our excellent moves, and thinking that we should perhaps hone our skills further at some dance classes.

London is being taken over by jive, it seems. I had a fabulously fun evening down in Catford (is this possible) a few months back, courtesy of the Rivoli ballroom*. It really is spectacular: a beautifully preserved dance hall with velvet trimmings, a proper sprung floor and an american diner-style bar. And a very fun way of spending the evening - starting with a class (good chance to check out the talent, naturellement) and continuing with being whirled around the room by various men. Am sure it's altogether a less stressful experience as a woman, as the men are very much in charge, although i confess i struggled a little with the whole letting go thing for a while before deciding it was really rather a relief.

Anyway. More please. This site has a useful list of dance classes by day; the Pineapple Studios one on a Wednesday looks most convenient - £10, call 01895 613 703 or check out their website. Incidentally, my male friend M can dance like a demon and he has never had so many interested women in his life. So boys, get your dancing shoes on.


* I note with some trepidation that the Rivoli has just been put up for sale. Watch this space.

Savoy there!

Now this is something that really can't be missed: the Savoy is about to have a huge facelift, and before shutting for 18 months it's holding an auction to flog some of the current interior. They're putting nearly 3000 little bits of swanky London history under the hammer - from beds to ashtrays to hatstands - between the 18th and 20th December. Never has there been a better excuse for taking a day off work. Viewings are on 16th and 17th December, and to get into that you need to buy a catalogue (£33). Call 020 7468 8200, or do everything you need to do online at Bonhams.

Tower of London

One of those places that you just start to take for granted as a grown up living and working in London. But I've just seen that they have started to do twilight tours, which sound super. I know they sometimes do gigs there too - it still grates that I missed the Pet Shop Boys one I had tickets for two years ago. Hey ho. Most excitingly, I read this morning that there is going to be yet another ice rink there: but this one looks amazing - it's set up as the moat. Fabulous. Running from 24th Nov until 13th Jan. Not to be missed. The Tower's also been in the news recently for appointing the first woman beefeater for 522 years. Well done, Moira, I salute you.

Floating my boat

When I was 13 I remember taking my first trip along the Thames to the Tower of London with my impossibly miserable (even compared to me) French exchange. Nothing made her happy. But I adored the boat trip, and it's one of the first times I remember thinking how great London is. Since then I've tramped up and down the Thames in London on a regular basis - from Thames Ditton through to Greenwich by foot - between Teddington and Kew is gorgeous; around Limehouse on the north bank, and Rotherhithe on the south bank is magical. I didn't realise until I moved to the gritty penthouse earlier this year how much the river bends. A good disruptor of the north/south divide argument.

There are loads of ways of playing on the thames which I haven't yet done but would like to. The trips around Kingston and Hampton Court look great. The tate-to-tate boat (ok, I've done that one lots but would happily do it again and again). The boat to the new O2 dome, which I'd also like to see. Oh and also those Rib boats which tear up and down the river, for any time when speed is what you're looking for.

But as I found out not so long ago, Regents Canal is another waterway that snakes its way through the city - and one that I've explored much less. Really want to go on this - a mercifully commentary free trip (if I want to know, I can read) offered by the London Waterbus company. They even do a day-long trip through 12 locks...

Time for some new music

So I got bored of my music collection ooo, about 3 months ago, and this morning have finally got round to blowing cash on i-Tunes. They just make it so easy. Am slightly depressed to realise that I've managed to purchase almost entirely female artists, again, but sod it, I like them. Thanks to L's blog all the way from Oz, I have stocked up on Rilo Kiley and Jenny Lewis. Bought the Killers album as I'm sick of everyone knowing it when I don't; Bob Dylan, a particular craving that hit me this morning, and just to satisfy those pop needs, Rihanna and Siobhan Donaghy. Who knew the latter was so good? (well, Pop Justice, apparently. And they know their stuff, being Dragonette's no 1 fan)

It means that next time I go to karaoke (am almost certain there will be a next time now, having broken through the pain barrier that is your first time with a microphone, sorry everyone else) I might have a bit more of a range than Tiffany - yes I know the dance moves too - and Tainted Love... incidentally, if there is a next time, Lucky Voice was pretty good - even if S did mistake 'perrier jouet' for 'prosecco' at some cost; I'd also be happy to sing my heart out at the all-new all-cool Bloomsbury bowling alley.

Natural Convenience

No, this isn't a reference to an ecologically sound toilet. It's the tagline of The Yard in Battersea - a genius new idea that fits right into my stupidly busy life (which also explains the long blog silence). It has 8 cooking stations where you can go in and prepare meals for yourself - all organic ingredients, recipes and stuff all there to speed up the process. You can take them home, stock up your freezer and avoid those misery-inducing moments of being hungry but too tired to cook, and besides all you've got is some peanut butter and noodles. I love it. On the corner of Northcote Road, tel no is 020 7924 1199. If you don't even have time to go cook, they deliver.

Seduced at the Barbican

Another month, another raunchy exhibition at the Barbican. Should make me feel even more inadequate about my current celibacy...

Well - I went with R & P and as we dutifully went round carefully inspecting people shagging in various positions, men wearing hats made of cocks (whole new meaning for dickhead) and victorian porn, i couldn't help wondering how the exhibition got away with sex being so closely associated with penetration alone. hmm. no lesbian sex please, we're british. still, it was fun. best 'exhibits'? - robert mapplethorpe being fisted; and a brilliant video of a woman's face as she gets a blowjob. And, being a total sucker (ha ha) for all things neon - remember the tate 'butterflies' where the 'b' and 'f' flicked on and off so it became 'utter lies'? - I also liked Tracey Emin's 'Is Anal Sex Legal?' // 'Is Legal Sex Anal?'. Genius.

B&B Belgravia

OK, so I've been recommending this place to everyone for about a million years and have been known to escape there myself when I can't take the heat any more. It's great, despite the fact I could never afford the shops round there (nor would I particularly want to) - huge rooms, good showers, delicious sheets, great breakfasts and - hurrah hurrah - all that for under 100 quid.

Daily Encounters

I always find that there's something whimsical about photojournalism exhibitions and this one looks cool. Lots of images from newspaper photographers spanning most of the 20th century. On at the NPG until Oct 25th (nb open till 8.50pm on thursdays and fridays)

The good thing about liking photography exhibitions is that there are some real gems of galleries to hang out in around London. Just don't forget your SLR. Like Photofusion on Electric Lane in Brixton (best accompanied by a post-exhibition bowl of spicy noodle soup at Fujiyama), or the Photographers' Gallery on Gt Newport Street, which has the best shop for DVDs and big books - and wrapping paper - ever. And the Southbank usually has some photos somewhere - currently it is hosting the World Press Photo Exhibition till Sept 9th.

Global Cities

Don't have much time left for this exhibition at the Tate Modern - it finishes on 27th August - but I'm really going to try and make it as it looks fantastic. I like the fact they've themed it around things like space, diversity and speed - reflecting how we actually experience living in a city. All very Jane Jacobs.

Kensington Roof Gardens

I remember going to this building when it was a big, hot goth's dream. How different it is now... there's the Whole Foods supermarket with canteen (well, next door anyway) and this roof garden which sounds genuinely excellent - and it's a huge 1.5 acres big... Friday and Saturday nights involve Tudor barbeques (??) and a club.

Elling

This is playing until October 6th at the Trafalgar Studios, that slightly random theatre at the top of Whitehall. Suitably Norwegian for my tastes. And apparently John Simm is quite hot.

Actually, more reasons to go to Hammersmith

As I was writing about the Lyric, I kept on thinking of other things that are good about Hammersmith. So before I write the whole place off, other things I like about the place:

Riverside Studios. Great double bills on sundays. nice bar overlooking the river, that is much less crowded than some of the manky, chip-stinking, toff-stuffed pubs further down. I've always wanted to live near somewhere like this - art, film, music, good coffee - mmm yes please

The walk from Hammersmith Bridge (which actually I really like too, nice and green) down towards Barnes. Pretty pretty.

The Polish Cultural Centre. Great food, a lot of vodka and tends to stay open pretty late. bring it on.

The vintage fashion fairs put on at the bunker-like town hall every now and then. I fantasise about being one of those people who know what to buy at these things; sadly, I just tend to wander around paralysed by the fear of wanting everything and knowing nothing.

So - more reasons to hang out in Hammersmith than Bromley then. Hardly a ringing endorsement but not bad, given I'm generally a bit allergic to west London...

Lyric Hammersmith - a reason to venture west

It's easy to think there's not much more to Hammersmith than the flyover, and the Apollo which you stare at for hours as you sit in traffic jams on said flyover. It's true that it's a bit short of good restaurants and bars (unless you want to pay over the odds for what is admittedly fantastic pasta at the River Cafe) but there's one reason alone that gives it a fond place in my heart (well, maybe two but that's another story) - the Lyric Theatre on King Street.

It is a beautiful old theatre - red plush seats, incredible cornicing and the rest... surrounded by a really impressive refurb that has opened out bars, terraces and cafes. Lovely. Best of all is the crazy stuff they decide to programme. Latest show, which I'm off to see in September, is The Bacchae, an exploration of female sexuality. If the last thing I went to is anything to go by (it involved simulated sex between someone with cerebral palsy and their carer) this won't be something for kids...

I love the Lyric for all this, but also because it has introduced me to some great stuff. Kneehigh Theatre from Cornwall, and Frantic Assembly are up there with Punchdrunk for physical theatre. They have some great soundtracks too - it was there that I first heard Lamb's stuff.

Films to see before August is out

Well, it's been a while since I've been about town. Dunno where I've been really, but it's about time I reaffirmed my urban existence. In that spirit, here are all the films I want to see before miserable September comes round. So much to do, so little time...

12:08 East of Bucharest - v excited that this is the first of the Romanian films that are coming out this autumn

The Bourne Ultimatum - ok so not my usual kind of film, and I missed the second one, but I still remember the car chase from the first one

Eagle vs Shark - hmm, perhaps one to keep to myself on an early morning trip - Time Out call it a 'socially clumsy romance'

Sparkle - modern day rake's progress

Atonement - not out officially till sept but Vue cinemas are kindly putting on a preview with free popcorn and everything on 23rd August

After Faust, Punchdrunk do it again

The obvious place when you think about it for Punchdrunk to take up residence is the shambolic but lovely Battersea Arts Centre. I've seen some pretty odd stuff there in my time; Time Out mounted a huge campaign against miserable old Tory Wandsworth Council who were going to slash BAC's funding; the paint is peeling and the loos are awful, almost as bad as the wine but sod it, it's a great place.

Punchdrunk are putting on The Masque of the Red Death during September and October. Evening dress optional. I'm excited already. If you go on Friday or Saturday nights, the ticket price includes entry to Red Death Late Nights.

I heart the South Bank

God, I don't think there's been more than 48 hours in the last three weeks where I haven't at some point found myself on the South Bank. What a great place. I love the fact that you don't need to buy anything to enjoy the space. I love the open-ness of the RFH. I love the glass and stone of it all. I love the water installations. You get the picture: I'm quite a fan. Anyway I was there again today and had 15 minutes to kill as I awaited a first date (not the best start to a beautiful relationship) and found yet more cool stuff. If only I could marry the South Bank and be done with these silly boys.

Take for example Late Lounge at the Terrace Cafe of the National Theatre, 10pm-1am on Fridays and Saturdays during summer - the unique 'Bring and Share' DIY disco. Or St Etienne's Turntable Cafe nights held monthly(ish). Or Benugo at the BFI. Super super, the lot of them.

Vauxhall's green and pleasant fields

This is what every local park should be like. Everytime I walk through it I am struck by how well cared for it is, and what a lot is going on there, despite being on the small side. Above and beyond the standard park-like things, it has a model village (yes! really it does!), a lavender field and a rose garden. Dead cool.

The park's one of several good reminders that Vauxhall is about so much more than a one way system. Others include the gorgeous and romantic community gardens behind hippie Bonnington Square, where I've loved and lost; the city farm squeezed into a tiny space between sprawling estates; and the Spring Gardens Community Centre, which has the most fantastic organic vegetarian cafe but only between 8 and 2 on weekdays. So unknown that I can't even find a link to it on the internet. Come Sunday night it plays host to some *very* raucous parties... what is it about sunday nights in vauxhall? they are apparently the new saturday in this funny little pocket of town.

New Sardinian outpost: Belgravia

There really isn't much to recommend the Victoria end of Belgravia. It's where Mrs Thatcher lives. It has the coach station. It has no newsagents. It has a pub full of braying rahs. Oh and it has two of my favourite restaurants ever. Damn.

Olivo and it's cheaper sister Oliveto are both brilliant examples of what restaurants should be about. Both Sardinian in flavour, the former does some serious meat 'n' fish; the latter great pastas, pizzas and a few fishy things. The waiters are cool, the wine is cheap and hangover-friendly, the tables are close together but somehow that doesn't matter too much.

Clearly the owner of these two lovely places has got sick of turning people like me away when I try (in vain) to book tables for 2 for the same day, and I see he's just opened a third restaurant: Olivomare (time to place your bets on what the fourth one's going to be called) - fish, fish and fish again. Sounds great. Only bad news is that according Time Out, they're already turning down bookings. Grr.

Olivo is on Eccleston Street, 020 7730 2505. Oliveto is on Elizabeth Street, 020 7730 0074. Olivomare is on Lower Belgave Street, 020 7730 9022.

The pain and the itch

The Royal Court has a relatively new artistic director who has been having a real go at all the Guardian-reading liberals feeling better about themselves for coming to watch plays about poor and lost people. He's said he wants theatre to be more explicitly political (I like him already). This play is about the self-obsession and self-consciousness that often seems to accompany overly eager proclamations of liberalism. It seems to be designed to make the audiences likely to be seeing it shift in their seats. Mixed reviews (it started on Broadway) but it's been too long since I went to the Royal Court so time to go back. On until 4th August, 020 7565 5000.

C is for cinema, coffee and curzon

This site is very useful indeed: it has the listings and times for all films playing at the Curzons Soho and Mayfair, as well as the Renoir. So pretty much my favourite convenient cinemas all in one place. Although if I ever get bored of them, Rich Mix or the Electric are pretty fantastic alternatives.

Curzon Mayfair quite often has a good early showing, but guaranteed early and damn cheap are the Cineworld Haymarket, or the cinema inside the Trocadero (where, if they like the look of you, they give you a student price and let you take your own coffee in - two things definitely worth smiling nicely at the ticket vendor for...). Oh, and for those times when all you want to do is talk all the way through the movie, there's nowhere better than the Ritzy Friday night viewing.

EV

I *think* this is the super cool place I peer down at from the train between Waterloo East and London Bridge. It's full of fairy lights AND it's under some railway arches. If I'm right (my, this is all rather speculative) it's part of the Tas chain. Time to get down there. Isabella Street, 020 7620 6191.

The Wallace

The Wallace on Manchester Square is London's nearest equivalent to the Frick, which makes it a brilliant place in my books. It's open every day 10-5pm. Haven't yet managed to go to the new Peyton restaurant there, although it sounds great. They also do afternoon teas (a date option, perhaps?) and brunches. Shuts at 4pm on Sundays but otherwise last booking is at 9.30pm each night.

Camino

I am beginning to assemble enough things to do in King's Cross to head there on a night out soon... so this new Spanish tapas place in Varnishers Yard (Regent Quarter) has got me excited. A distinct improvement on Pico's take on both 'tapas' and 'tasteful decor'. Sounds like it has a lovely courtyard for boozing too.

Great Queen Street

The latest venture by the guys behind Anchor and Hope. Also currently one of the most-searched for restaurants on the Time Out site so maybe best leave it till things have calmed down a bit... though you can book tables there - 020 7242 0622. You would never guess it, but it's on Great Queen Street.

Kew Gardens

How have I never been here? Something to rectify asap I think.

Ciao Bella

I adore this restaurant - impossibly loud, impossibly busy, but I've never failed to have a good evening there. There's a big white piano in the corner, which is played by a guy whose repertoire seems to be wide-ranging, albeit within the constraints of 'easy listening'. Great breadsticks. And there's one really fabulous waiter who I always get to flirt with. The place is getting so popular that booking is becoming compulsory - 020 7242 4119 - unless of course the plan was always to get utterly smashed at The Lamb whilst awaiting a table...

Ballet Boyz

Blink and you'll miss this one as it's only on for 2 nights (14th and 15th July). And seeing as I have a date on the 14th, that leaves one night. But it could be a brilliant way of spending Sunday evening - the Ballet Boyz rip through 20thC dance, mixed in with film and music. On at the newly renovated RFH, book tickets here.

Betrayal at the Donmar

I love the Donmar, I really do. In fact, I must remember to get membership there as it's so goddamn hard to get tickets for any of their productions these days. Anyway, Betrayal looks excellent - lots of notquitethirty themes i.e. love, infidelity, commitment and the rest. Oh yes and apparently some bloke called Harold Pinter wrote it. On till July 21st. 0870 060 6624.

Regina Spektor

One for me and LGG? She's playing at RFH on 7th September...

Kings Cross music festival in August

So I've failed to make Glastonbury but this Kings Cross based festival on 25th/26th August looks pretty cool.* There appears to be some confusion about the dates but it looks like it's happening around the bank holiday weekend...



* my proxy: metronomy are playing. nuff said.

Jarvis Cocker at Meltdown

In case I get stood up on the 23rd, which at this stage is looking quite possible... Jarvis' curating of Meltdown looks ace this year, I'm sorry that I've missed it all, but at least here I might get to hear the great man himself. Been really digging his Pulp stuff again recently, so could almost live with being stood up for him.

Oh my! Dragonette are playing again

This time, supporting a band who I *think* are called Chromeo, but to be honest their graphic design is so awful that I can't even read it. Anyway, Dragonette as support stood out. They're playing at the super cool Rivoli-esque looking London Bush Hall on 27th June, which clashes horribly with a work dinner, but hey, maybe I can get out of it.

Joan as a Policewoman

One for me and C? On 11th July at Shepherd's Bush... credit cards 0870 400 0688 or online at www.livenation.co.uk

Panic Attack at the Barbican

On till Sept 9th, finally the punk show is on the road. Sounds like a pretty cool exhibition, taking in lots of the punk stuff in relation to gay liberation and feminism as well as music and the rest.

Hmm. Well I had high hopes for this one but went to see it today with Ix and we agreed that were we writing the reviews, it would be: 'ok but not great' for the Times and 'a lot of cocks but not enough tits' for NOTW. I was really excited about an exhibition that included the political dimension of punk - but annoyingly this show does that to the massive exclusion of music, visceral anger and safety pins. It felt a bit wrong walking around the gallery in hushed tones, everyone refusing to laugh at the video of the man beating himself up before smearing his arse with tomato ketchup. Hmm. Anyway we had a fun day and I do love the Barbican. every time I go there I have a little fantasy of my life as a mildly eccentric writer living on the top floor of one of the tower blocks. one day, one day...

Paul Chan at the Serpentine

Potentially a little pretentious, but in a way that I suspect I might rather enjoy. This exhibition is on at the Serpentine till 1st July. Lots of video projections, colour, symbolism. Time Out claims the theme across all of them is the fall of man and the return of religion and irrationality. We'll see. If I make it.

John Soane museum

T has been going on at me about visiting here for years now. In fact, when we finally made it there a month or so ago we wondered if it would mean that we could no longer be friends - what else would we talk about now we didn't have the prop of planning a visit to this ace museum? Well - it seems to have worked out ok, and we had a really excellent time at John's house. He was quite a dude, this guy: an artist, architect, thinker, collector, general polymath. Things I was stunned by: the passion of the museum caretakers; the queues outside (the place is only open in the evenings once a month, on the first tuesday, and clearly time out readers have decided it's cool); and the sheer quantity of crazy stuff on show there. Great. Go when it gets dark in the evenings so that they light the candles. But be prepared to be patient to get in.

STOP PRESS 19 Princelet St open for one week only

OK, so the Museum of Immigration and Diversity really isn't open that often. So June 17th-24th is a special time when the effort really must be made to go there. The building has been a mosque, synagogue and church in its time. It struggles to keep going but by all accounts is a bit of a magical Tardis-like building. And I love that they market themselves as London's 'museum of conscience'. I'm there.

Don't panic

Cool-sounding exhibition from The Architecture Foundation, including stuff from JG Ballard (whose book High Rise was the main reason my parents decided to sell up their beautiful riverside flat), plus other films and installations exploring themes around fear and fragility - and The Future Of London. Serious stuff. On until July 13th at the AF's Yard Gallery, 49 Old Street (same tube) Tue-Fri 10-6, Sat 12-6.

Rye

Queen's best 1970s song was about this place, loads of inter-war arty lesbians lived here, so it's clearly a place I'm going to like. A total pig to get to, but once there it's kind of fun. Very near Camber Sands, which has a cool hotel and fantastically sandy beaches with excellent dunes which you can hide and snog in.

Box Hill

Well if it was good enough for Jane Austen's characters, it's good enough for me. Great views, and less than an hour from Victoria.

Groombridge Place

Although I got rave reviews from M about this place (he went to a wedding there) I won't hold that against it, as it does sound cool. It's near Tunbridge Wells in Kent (another strike against it, but again... let it go...), and is the most fantastic stately home with the usual amazing manicured gardens. And an enchanted forest, says the website. According to my friend T, it was bought by a wealthy American, which is what saved it from going to ruin, and for some reason that's been lost in the mists of time, it is a detour for the people who participate in the vintage car rally that happens every year...

Postman's Park

This is a place that has been on my to-do list for a very, very long time. It's great: a small, little known park within the square mile. To get there you need to follow Little Britain towards St Paul's cathedral - not that easy to find but so worth it as it really is magical. Very Demos too - with a wall of plaques commemorating 'everyday heroes'. I like. Note: turns out (as i discovered) it risks being quite romantic. Careful who you go with...

Horniman Museum and park

I love this place. The views really are quite breathtaking and remind you what a green city London is. Also, the newly-revamped museum is absolutely wicked. There's a giant walrus and everything. I once ate a really nice omlette at the cafe too. What more could a girl want?

Meraz cafe

Bangladeshi restaurant on Hanbury Street, just off Brick Lane. It's been around since 1974 so it must be alright...

Cymbeline

This looks like an incredible production of a difficult play, from Cheek by Jowl, on at the Barbican until June 23rd.

Lunacy

Czech film which sounds a bit like The Science of Sleep in terms of its blend of animation, imagination and real life. Involving the Marquis de Sade, the 18th century, madness, and on top of all this it is a political commentary on the relative strengths of chaos and dictatorship. Great review from Time Out.

Not here to be loved

A French film about an average guy and his average inner life - which, apparently quite focused around sex. Who knew? Sounds like there are some fantastic women characters - from the 30 something school councillor to the lead guy's assistant (whose inner life is also suitably racy) - and to top it all off, it's not too long. Hurrah! Also I like the title.

California Dreamin'

Another day, another Romanian film. This one won't be around until later in 2007, but arrived in Cannes with great reviews. It's about a train load of Americans who get stopped in a small town in Romania - and the consequences of them exploring the town, its women... sounds excellent... directed by Cristian Nemescu, who was just 26 when he died in a car crash last year.

Crop

Struggling to work out what exactly this show is, but it looks good. Lots of photos of everyday life, on the walworth road. right up my street. On at Central St Martins (Southampton Row) 12-6pm Sat 16th, and 12-8pm Mon 18th-Thurs 21st... must try to go must try to go must try to go

The Narrow

Gordon Ramsay's gastropub in Limehouse. My, I want to go - I love that bit of town and this review from Time Out sounds good (although they can't spell his name right): "The first of Gordon Ramsey’s gastropub outposts is proving a roaring success with critics and punters alike. Housed in a Grade II listed building, it features a ground floor bar with outside tables for drinkers and picturesque river views. You might have to wait weeks and weeks for a table in the dining room but there’s a tasty selection of bar snacks for the impatient among us. Feast on a half-pint of Atlantic prawns, potted Cromer crab with granary toast, traditional Ploughman's lunch or cheese on toast (a snip at just £2.50), then wash it all down with their great selection of bottled beers or a glass from the sophisticated wine list. Sheer summer bliss."
44 Narrow St, E14 8DQ (020 7265 8931) Limehouse DLR.

Sun and Doves

The only reason in the whole world to seek out Loughborough Road. But a really good reason. Mark Dodds who owns this place is absolutely great. I think I used to fancy him actually. Whatever, he's got a cool pub and the story behind it is one of him beating the system of evil money-grabbing breweries, so worth supporting for that too. Has a quiz every weds, as well as loads of live music and art exhbitions.

The Lighthouse

Nice bar in Battersea. I went there a few times with John when it was Dovedale House - good garden, chilled atmosphere and nice for when I can't be bothered to go into town...

Nordic Bakery

Everyone's raving about this new bakery which can be found at no 14 Golden Square. Loads of good Scandy stuff and strong coffee. www.nordicbakery.com open till 8pm during the week, and 7pm on Saturday.

What women want

On at the Women's Library until Aug 24th - return of the exhibition from last year recounting the journey of women as citizens over the years.

How we are: photographing Britain

On at Tate Britain till 2nd September. From their site: The first major exhibition of photography at Tate Britain takes a unique look at the journey of British photography, from the pioneers of the early medium to today.

Lotte Berk method

Let's face it, I've never been a fan of my bum. Lotte Berk sounds ace - based on ballet, you choose whether to do 100% classes or work out to a video and supplement this every now and then. DVD is called The Lotte Berk Method: high round assets. her classes are in fulham and happen at these times - don't forget to book!

The Zetter

A converted Victorian warehouse in Shoreditch that has recently turned into a boutique hotel. All very eco too. Hot water bottles, music library, movies, restaurant and nice bar too. Plus wicked beds. Doubles from £150. which isn't bad for london. 020 7324 4444.

4 months, 3 weeks and 2 days

Winner of Palme D'Or this year. looks incredible. shame i guess it won't be showing here for a while...

national dining rooms at the national gallery (NOT the NPG!)

beware as this lovely space is only open between 10 and 5pm - useless for evening dates, but excellent for lunch. they even adjust the blinds for you if the sun gets in your eyes. on the plus side it's less swanky but equally classy when compared to the national portrait gallery restaurant (though clearly, being on the ground floor means the views aren't so great).

they have either table service (good) or canteen service (confusing) - worth bearing both in mind depending on your mood.

cafe wanda, clapham polish cafe

From Time Out: An unexpected find amid the bland gastropubs and bars of Clapham High Street, Café Wanda can rustle up anything from a takeaway cake to a full meal of Polish home cooking. It's an informal spot, furnished with potted plants and eastern European art, and is populated by a steady stream of Polish diners, all of whom seem to know the staff by name. The small menu of Polish staples and mainstream European dishes allows diners to pick and mix; vegetarians are well looked after. To start, the mixed vegetarian platter (goat's cheese bruschetta, roasted aubergine and courgette) was excellent, if about as untypical of Polish cuisine as you can get. This was followed by the two cornerstones of any Polish restaurant: pierogi and blini. Both were faultless: the pierogi succulent and flavoursome; the two large blini (with smoked salmon and sour cream) wonderfully calorific and comforting. Our waiter's comedic patter was relentless, despite our cringing, but service overall was tip-top. Café Wanda makes a fine venue for a quiet supper during the week and is an even better choice for a raucous group dinner at the weekend.

don giovanni at ROH

dates for tickets: fri 15th, sun 17th, tues 26th (all june), weds 4th, sun 8th (both july): info on cheap day release tickets here.

girls rock night - 93 feet east on 8th june

featuring The Duloks, amongst others.... should be great.

Yes, and am now typing the day after the night before to say that it was great, despite my fatal mistake in choosing to go with people who weren't exactly into the girl band concept of the night... hey ho. Duloks were crazy, sex-obsessed, out of tune but inexplicably hot, especially their lead singer, whose energy was enough to make me feel ancient. Also The Scha-la-las were totally excellent. I dig their dresses...

antony gormley, hayward, until 19th August

Check him out. Blind Light.

skylon at the RFH

It looks posh but pretty tasty... and they claim the grill is less formal...

mandalay

Edgware Road isn't exactly known for its exotic pavilions and lush, tropical landscape, but it does contain a gem of a Burmese restaurant – London's one and only. Mandalay is a small, family-run set-up, the menu influenced by Thai, Indian and Chinese cooking, as well as Burmese cuisine. Expect plenty of fish and seafood, fragrant bowls of rice and noodles, and light aromatic curries. If you enjoy healthy broths, opt for bottle gourd soup: scented with toasted garlic slivers and containing shrimps, rice noodles and strips of the gourd, it makes a superb palate cleanser. Staff are passionate about their craft and happy to take curious customers on a guided tour of the menu.

inn the park

From Time Out online: This is one of the best-located restaurants in London – and it's a looker too. The modern wooden structure fits perfectly into a lakeside slot in St James's Park, with every table having a water view. We've a real soft spot for this place – good for families (staff are charming with young diners), it's also a romantic night-time haunt, and whatever the occasion, it's affordable. Breakfasts might be a full english or a bowl of granola with yoghurt and pomegranate; at lunch there's a choice of sandwiches or a full meal. Star turns on a summer lunch menu were asparagus with morels, peas and mint in a butter-rich broth, and Devonshire Bronze chicken breast with braised fennel; beautifully tan chips were a nice side order. We made fast work of treacle tart with clotted cream, but special mention has to go to the British cheese plate: £7.50 bought goat's cheese, stilton and cheddar, a shiny apple, chutney and plenty of biscuits. All this is buttressed by a global wine list, and a fine batch of cocktails. A park café par excellence. Owner Oliver Peyton is also behind the National Dining Rooms .

mutual appreciation

108mins US
Director: Andrew Bujalski
Starring: Jason Rice, Rachel Clift, Andrew Bujalski, Seung-Min Lee
Teaching assistant Lawrence lives in a low rent New York apartment with his girlfriend Ellie. When Lawrence's best friend, rock musician Alan, arrives in the city, tensions in the relationship become evident. Ellie is clearly attracted to Alan, who gladly entertains her flirtations whilst rebuffing the advances of sexy singleton Sara.
http://www.londonnet.co.uk/films/mutualappreciation.html