Get a detox - chapter 7
Friday, July 20, 2012 at 6:19PM By Sunday I was on countdown to £10 Tuesday at East Restaurant in Peterborough which would signal the end of my self-imposed pizza and chip exile. Monday proved to be an easy day to contend with - lunch at Yashin Sushi Restaurant just off Kensington High Street was a treat. Sitting at the sushi bar watching the chefs work, smiling as they greeted each new customer with a rousing Japanese welcome and revelling in the taste sensations of market fresh fish and seafood was no hardship at all. I drank water and felt as clean and fresh as the green herb sorbet they served to finish. It was an effort to drag myself away. Flexing my Amex down the Kings Road had been my primary intention but instead I decided to head north up to Marylebone highstreet and taking advantage of the dry weather I decided to stroll. Up Kensington High Street I went, pass McDonalds (I had just a split-second pang for a Chicken Legend) and turned left up into Kensington Palace gardens which is a beautiful wide boulevard built about 130 years ago on some of the kitchen gardens of the palace. Boy, they must have grown a lot of vegetables. Nowadays grand buildings house foreign embassies and about half way down is the Russian Federation Embassy. It has a magnificent wooden door that would easily be at home on an average cathedral and I decided to stop and admire it. Pushing my face up against the railing of the gate I gazed at it, taking in the beautiful carvings and metal stud work. It brought to mind the several times I had worked in Moscow and without thinking I started to run through various Russian phrases and words in my head. I felt my lips moving along with my thoughts. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught something moving and turning my head I realised I was being watched, infact, I was being filmed. I pulled back embarrassed and sauntered off in what I hoped was a nonchalant manner. Who knows now if I will ever be allowed back to Moscow.
I 
was up in London mainly to watch a BBC R4 programme called the Philosophers Arms being recorded at the Exmouth Arms which is a pub about a five minute walk from Euston. Having had a minor detour into a shoe shop on Marylebone High Street and made a purchase, I at least felt I had fulfilled that part of my souls desire. Black leather boots with killer heels - I don't care what anyone says, there is no such thing as too many pairs of shoes. Or boots for that matter. Stopping at a juice bar nearly at the top of the high street I took one boot out of the box to admire it. I gently cradled it in my arms, and pushing my nose against the leg inhaled the glorious scent of new leather. So I looked odd. But this is London, and nobody even noticed. Sighing to myself I planned for their first night out. It was like having a new love. The carrot, apple and beetroot detox juice was pretty good too.
Reader Comments (1)
Yes, very nice boots.