London: An Old Flame.

I did not realize how much I missed London until I arrived at our hotel in Kensington. It's been almost two years since my last visit, and it felt like only yesterday that I was strolling past Holland Park, on my way to breakfast.

With only two nights in the city, I really couldn't afford to waste any time sleeping. I knew I had to start my day right after check-in, and what better way to do so than sipping a piccolo at my favorite coffee shop along Soho's Bateman Street, Milk Bar? Bonus points for the cute barista who remade my piccolo after I told him I was going to photograph the coffee. He turned out to be singer/actor, Ben Chambers, from down under. He can sing, act, and make a mean cup of coffee. What else can one ask for?

While the caffeine started to kick in, I was moving on to my next agenda: food. In my mind was just one place for that, Borough Market. My body was ready for whatever the market had to offer.

I found sea salt caramel fudges, homemade peanut brittle, wild boar salami, probably 50 different types of mustards at one shop, and best of all, salt beef bagel. I don't want this to sound like a promo so you'll just have to search for these on your own. All I can say is, the salt beef was pretty f*cking awesome. For those interested in baking , there's also a baking school located within the Market.

After a good three hours at Borough Market,  I was just a couple hours away from sunset. I had one final place on my list and I did not want to lose any light (for obvious reasons.) The Jubilee and Circle lines took me to Notting Hill Gate station, and there I went straight for Portobello Road.

I was here two Christmases ago with my family, and we stayed at an Airbnb apartment along Portobello Road which was lovely. Coming back here made me miss the time we spent together so badly. Nothing much changed either. The famous pastel terraces were still in the right shades, Gail's was still crowded, people were still lining up for cupcakes at Hummingbird Bakery, and pretentious hipsters still filled the tables at the Electric Diner.

Only on second glance did I notice a new bar along Portobello, Pix. What lured me in were the trays of tapas looking right at me through the slightly tinted window. Plus, they were three for £5. I figured these and a Hendrick's and Tonic would tide me over until dinnertime.

The bartender explained to me that their tapas are also called pintxos (or pinchos), and are traditionally found in the Basque Country. There were so many to choose from but I went with my gut and got the Four Cheese Fritter, the Smashed Pea and Broadbean with Mozzarella, and the Iberico Ham and Quail Egg. I did not regret a single choice. The fritter left me speechless, yes, it was that good.

My next adventure (or day) was all about getting off the beaten track in Hoxton and Shoreditch. But let's save it for another post, shall we?

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