Trips, Stays & Weekends Away

Getting All Up In My Borough Bruv *London: Part 1*

May 21, 2013
Feels like an age since I was in that London Town. Only about three & a half weeks BUT – withdrawal. Been so busy I haven’t even had time to do a proper post- say whaaat?! Say yes.

I arrived the day before the London Marathon so the coppers were out in full force. Luckily I know my way around a tube station so I wasn’t bovvveered innit. *I was also being obnoxious & practicing my Luundun accent on everybody for two days prior to my departure – & it is well proper authentic. Well*

So 11 hours later I landed. Tubed it, dropped bag off at hotel, showered for the sake of hygiene, back on tube & hello lovely Borough Market. But wait… “Oi luv, get out the road, get out the bloody road!” – that was a copper. There was a bomb. Just outside the station, across from the market entrance. Ja. It went off. Just a mini one mind you. Smoke. What’s that over there? *Bread* Attention span – minimal. Walked towards it & just stared. “Alright luv?” – that was the bread lady. “Ja, just checking out your rad bread ma’am”. *I hate you carbohydrates for looking so good & tempting me with your luscious smell of delicious*

Tubing With The Bowie. Boom.
Getting All Tube Dirty. Kind Of. 
Just So Bovveered By Bread.
Meat glory was all around – pork pie glory, rabbit glory *if you’re sensitive & can’t see what animals you are consuming – look away now, make your exit & run* Bunnies hung upside down – heads still on. Bunnies – shame. They were headed *scuse the pun – not intentional* for a stew for sure. Or a pie. Some sort of casserole perhaps. 

Best Of British Yeah.
Respect Mr Butcher Man. Respect.
I may have fallen in love just a little with the mint lamb burger selling man. Best fiver I ever spent, getting 2 minutes of pure talking pleasure with this man who does wonders with lamb & liked the Saffa accent *I will marry you if you ask me right this instant* – he didn’t. Fine.

I Fell For The Other Oke. Couldn’t Let Him Think I Was Stalking.
Market Milling
I was a poor Saffa – the exchange rate was hideous that week, as it always is when I’m in the London. But I needed something else… what, what did I need… The sweet delights looked sweet. But no. A pork pie – I wanted a bloody pork pie. I got one & ate it. So in the space of 20 minutes I had consumed a mint lamb burger & a pork pie *hooha* This is why they call me Leils The Leg (as in legend, not leg).

Tempted By Cheese.
Some Getting Sweet.
Oh Borough. I love you. Even though Jamie Oliver wasn’t there. I still love you. I mean you can’t just hope to bump into your 13 year old crush just like that. Obviously not. I wasn’t walking around hoping he would be filming something or perhaps buying a wedge of cheese from those lovely cheese boys. No I wasn’t doing that.

I’ll end this by saying – I did get a tad touristy though. I bought a hessian Borough Market bag. Just so that I could whip it out when doing my shopping back in Jozi. I wouldn’t dream of throwing the ‘shame – you don’t have one look’ towards anybody else in the queue – wouldn’t dream of it. 

That’s all it takes to get all up in my Borough bruv, that’s all it takes. 

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