Some of my colleagues have had a Patty and Bun breakfast this morning and I missed out. All my brain can now think of is that delicious patty of meat with cheese melting evocably, oozing … sorry I got distracted.
As the morning passed my desire has turned to obsession. By 12.45 I’m in the starting blocks ready to beat the crowds Patty and Bun, Patty and Bun, Patty And Bun!! And I’m out the door…
… but I’ve walked passed the end of the road and the next and the next after that. The weather is good(ish), I’m feeling in a walky mood (a new thing I’ve discovered since having my fitbit) – I fancy a walk down by the Thames, it doesn’t look far on my phone map, so off I stride. I’ll get P&B on the way back.
Just as I’m about to hit the Thames I see a rather crappy sign “The Poppies” and an arrow. In my head The Tower of London is somewhere close to the Thames Barrier, certainly not within walking distance of work, but a quick check on super-phone-maps says 8mins away … Left Turn!!
The Poppies at The Tower of London are stunning, poignant and shattering at the same time. From afar a sea of blood, a bit closer a distinguishable poppy representing a British military life lost during World War I.
888,246 poppies, 888,246 lives lost. Incomprehensible.
On the way back to work I stumbled across Lloyds of London and a tiny little church (St Andrew’s Undershaft) nestled and somewhat swamped by and between modernist buildings.
I do love London. I never got that Patty & Bun, but who cares?!