Spent the weekend sitting in the back garden, sun bathing, reading the paper and watching the sky. No contrails this weekend, because of the volcano ash. Such a strange absence.

It’s Halloween, I’m shopping for food, it’s 20h45. I’m turning round the corner from the bread section when a seemingly drunk hispanic guy, slightly younger than me, wearing a Mad Hatter’s hat, turns to me.

- Excuse me, can I ask for your opinion?
-…uh, sure.
- Which one of these cakes would you choose if it was your birthday
(He’s holding 2 pre-made cakes from Tesco, equally repulsive, but one looks slightly fresher than the other. I point to it)
- This one.
- You sure?
- Uhm, yeh.
- Thanks!
- No problem.

I turn my back and walk towards the milk section.

David Bowie was born David Robert Hayward-Jones in Brixton, London to parents who were married in September 1947 shortly after his birth.

The travel time in the Underground from South London to East London for work has proven to be less than consistent on the Northern Line, but part of the reason why I get there in the morning with a smile has _a lot_ to do with an unhealthy crush on the coffee I get from the Ape-driven local coffe chain Bean about town. They’re parked right outside my station, have cute baristas from New Zealand serving a mean coffee that I take into the station and that keeps me awake on the 23-45 minute trudge up into town (depending on how many people have decided to kill themselves that day). Heaven in hell.

The Savoy Café which I was living in front of more or less is closed now and hosting a bunch of typical poor-east-end-artists-with-enough-money-for-cool-clothes type event. Funny thing is I never noticed the place at all.

Makes me wonder what else I missed when I was in Hackney and most importantly has me wondering about the good caffs in South London. A quick read through Russell’s blog makes me think I need to investigate this further. Here are his breakfast and tea suggestions on a handy map as well as a little video on the great British institution of the dodgy caf :) Now all I need is a breakfast buddy…

Strange and slightly creepy what you find when you bother to look. Spotted yesterday:
- Flesh-coloured tights carefully removed
- A grape rolling up and down the carriage
- A single hair extension.

I’m not sure why but obviously noone’s ever thought of jumping the Brixton url to host community events. Brixton’s local url seems to be on sale, and the .com has been taken by a skater clothing company whereas Hackney seems to have gotten the hint. Surely there are web-savvy people here too?

(I’m standing on an escalator in London Bridge, headphones in when a tall guy walks up to me, standing right next to me. He’s speaking to me. I remove my headphones.)

- Sorry?
- Do you go to the gym?
- Uh…no.
- Oh so are you married?
- Uh…why are you asking me?
- Well you know you look good…
- Uh…thanks?
- Well you know I like how you look and so that’s why I’m asking.
-…
- So can I have your number?
- No.
- …
- …
(end of escalator)
- See ya!
- …