I got down in the grass to take this. Like a womble. Except I didn't pick up any litter.
Sunday was amazing. Sunday was the day that Spring Sprung Forth into My Life. And with gusto no less!
We woke up, the sun was shining, the birds were chirping. I opened the window and could smell the soft sweet fragrant smell of the blossom from the trees outside. Clearly it was not a day to be spent indoors.
Holly, Laura and I (we're housemates, but I like to think of us musketeers. Because there are three of us. Original? No. True? Actual? Why, yes, yes it is.) took a lovely little crazy tram ride to Wimbledon.
Wimbledon, for those who are not schooled in such things, is a suburb of London, and it's on the tube network, yet far enough outside to feel like a little village of it's own. And of course, every June, something happens with some tennis.
However, we went there, to potter in the shops, womble on the common, and eat delicious cakes.
Ok so, clearly, this post is going to involve a hell of a lot of drool, at least from me... So feel free to let rip..
Ah yes, the cakes. We went to the Wimbledon branch of Paul's. Paul's specialises in yummy, French fayre. Les sandwiches! Les tartes! Les tasses du the! And, something that very much amuses my bouche...
Thats chocolate and vanil...*droooooooooooolll*
Les macaroons!! Les yummy! OH oh, but of course, let us not forget les pieces de resistance...
Wow. My gosh. I mean, seriously, my mouth has just filled with saliva...
LES ECLAIRS....!!! This one had chocolate cream on the inside. Oh yes it did. I kid ye not. Bon appetite indeed.
After chowing down on all these amazingly rich treats, we had to work it out. Work it off. Work it down. You know, balance the inputs with the outputs yeah? We needed to take a wee walk around the common.
And by wee walk, clearly I meant find the nearest bench and stalk old people with my camera.