The Secret Garden

I'm torn whether to actually write about yesterday's venture or not. A huge part of the beauty and charm of the place lay in our sharing it only with a dog walker, the occasional jogger, photographers and an elderly couple having a romantic picnic complete with wine (they had the right idea).

In a small space, this may still seem a fair few people but in a vast expanse of architectural and horticultural magnificence, it really meant we were quite alone to the point where I wondered whether, had it only been me, I might have felt a little spooked. On a gloomy day such as it was, greyer corners of the structure were definitely reminiscent of a scene or detail from an opulent murder mystery.

I fear that were too many people aware of this 'secret garden's' existence than the magic would be gone. So I may be selfish and refer to it as just that; The Secret Garden. Although in all fairness, said garden is so far off the beaten track that even if more people did know of it, I hardly feel that it's somewhere they would frequent. Fine, yesterday we finally found ourselves at the Hill Garden & Pergola in Hampstead.

There's not really much to say. It really is one of those places that has to be seen to be believed. It was just so beyond surreal, incredibly magical and really genuinely peaceful (no peacock cries or sirens this time), almost to the point of being eerie at points. Nevertheless, we both agreed, very romantic!

Another slightly chilly 'summer's' day, we were eventually torn away by want of tea and cake. Having completely lost my bearings, I was totally convinced that we were right by Kenwood House (we were not. It was at least two roads and the majority of a heath away) so we wandered in what I thought was the right direction for the teashop.

As fate would have it, the 'right direction' did lead us to a perfectly pleasant park with an even more pleasant 'Refreshment House' where we sat inside (still bothered by wasps in want of chocolate and sweet apple) to enjoy our tea and cake.

Legs well rested and the sun finally shining, we couldn't just head back home could we? So on we blindly plodded again in the direction (we hoped) of the Heath. I am ashamed to say that in the end, Google Maps came out, but thus we did eventually find the longest way round to Parliament Hill. Once there, I (in true holiday mode style) had a light nap, only interrupted for a short moment by my own fit of laughter at a yuppie pair of teens, one of whom genuinely responded 'yeah, totes' to her friend, at which point I completely lost it. I don't think they knew I was laughing at them...

The rest of the day continued much in the same sleepy vein. My excuse is that I was getting my energy up for the next four days of wedding mania. 'Til Sunday!

Courgetti Bolognaise

Was expecting to be sat in Biddy’s Tearoom today, surrounded by cake and thinking about how much more I love cake than healthy eating and exercise but then a strange thing happened... I found myself instead buying a ‘Berry Good’ at Finnie’s Juice Bar next door. Juice! Juice? Me, the person who would frequently claim that I don’t even like the stuff! Have to admit though, it was good – raspberries, apple and pineapple (instead of the white grape which they didn’t have, resulting in reduced price juice, even better!), yum. Anyway, stop being so lazy seems to have inspired me to be more adventurous with food, which in the grand scheme of things (or rather in the three days since the wave of inspiration occurred) seems to be along the lines of eating more healthy food too!

I’m not aiming in the direction of anything resembling a diet or any massively intense exercise regime; I’m just trying to release lots of endorphins to keep stress at bay. So following my ‘Courgetti Bolognaise’ inspired by Hemsley and Hemsley

http://hemsleyandhemsley.tumblr.com/ - it’s all so pretty!

yesterday evening, which was actually equally as tasty if not more so than the traditional Spag Bol, I headed to the gym for the first time this year.

The gym is a scary place for me. There are all these keen people in actual gym clothes – instead of Matalan leggings, a H&M strap top and an actual bra – who actually know what to do with all the different sized balls – which I think just look like a LOT of fun – doing their exercises on the mats and watching themselves lift tiny weights in the mirrors to ‘perfect technique’. Then I roll up, hair all sticking about in strange directions (I hadn’t considered that it would no longer go into a neat little ponytail) and just pray that I don’t bump into anyone I know so that I won’t be seen struggling with the machines – not the working out you understand, just making them work in the first place! I just always find adjusting things so tricky. I’m quite small so when I’m on a bike I sliiiide the seat all the way down to as low as it can possibly be, and it’s only when I’m already 5 minutes into my cycling that I realise my knees are actually slightly bent and I’m probably doing myself more harm than good but I don’t want to stop to adjust the seat again because anyone that spots me will think I’m taking a break from exercise. So instead, I have to attempt to raise myself slightly, still pedalling and adjust the seat mid cycle. It just doesn’t work. Scary as it is, I find myself going back for entertainment purposes more than anything, although I must admit I do actually quite enjoy pretending I can row and apparently I also enjoy juice and other forms of healthy eating? But ‘shh’, don’t tell anyone!