One of my very best friends was in London over Easter. The kind of trip where she made the time to stop over in London before her friends wedding in India. I'd missed her, I'd missed her a ridiculous amount. She was the girl I'd vent to, gossip with, and squee over. We shared the (in)significant details of our lives with each other. Hopes and fears. We'd adventure together, and I know that if I ever needed someone to get up to mischief with, if I needed a wingman or even just someone to drive around with so I could cry, laugh or vent, she was it.
Before I left home I saw her almost every day. The day I left home, I was already crying when I hugged her goodbye at the airport. And last week? Last week we spent four brilliant days trapezing about London. There was mayhem, mischief and madness.
We hit up a fair few of London's landmarks (Big Ben, the London Eye, Westminster Abbey, London Bridge/Tower Bridge, The Tower of London, Buckingham Palace), wandered around the Thames + down near South bank. London really put on a show that weekend. It was blue skies + warmth, all day everyday. We were wandering about in shorts + jandals most days, and nights we'd switch out in skirts + heels.
We shopped. We shopped for dresses, and rockin colours and for skirts and cute shorts and jeans. We brought carebear shirts and mugs in Harrods. I watched as she tried on £3500 shoes in Christian Louboutin. We hit up the Bricklane markets for all its random vintage handmade stalls, and then we ate a mad amount of amazing food. We tried all sorts, and kept eating until we literally couldn't eat anymore. We wandered past stalls and admired the rad street pieces that are around there (invader, vhils, roa to name a few). We drank coffee in hip record stores and chatted up cute boys selling yogurt.
And oh man, the food. We ate a ridiculous amount of food. I took her to all my favourite food places. We had thai dumplings at Pingpong, and burgers at GBK. We had burritos at Benitos Hat, and Pizza at Fire + Stone. We made pie, and we ate Goo.
And we drank. Oh how we drank! There were cocktails in Soho, where we were stood up by a bouncer, but met a Hungarian bartender who flirted + fed us passionfruit. There were cocktails at West End Lane, where we hurt a suitors feelings and he called us horrible things (like retards + harridans. He hoped we would die in a pile of stinking pus. Or something like that. It was quite a rant). It was awkward, and all kinds of hilarious (especially because he mistook my genuine apology + questions for mockage. And then he tried the same on another group of girls + got kicked out). We were invited to a lock in by Alex-the-Great, only to drunkingly give him the wrong number. It was awkward the next morning when we went back for brunch and he was still there. We gave him the right number but I don't think he was impressed!
In Harrods we convinced the security guard + shopping attendant that we wanted to buy an outdoor couch shaped like an apple (looks like this) which meant not only did we get to sit in it for as long as we wanted (a good half hour at least), but we shamed out the security guard + had tourists taking photos of us.
But the best bit? The best bit was the quiet moments, where it was like we hadn't spent the last 5 months on opposite sides of the world. Where we'd sit and gossip like old times. Where we'd stretch out and just share whatever was currently going through our heads + hearts. Catching up. It was the best. I'd forgotten what it was like to have confidant. To have that one person who you could share anything with knowing you weren't going to be judged. That there would be no adverse reaction. That no matter what you said, or thought, or did, you'd be supported. You'd probably be laughed at too, but that was the nature of our friendship, really.
It's been about a week, and I miss her already. I'm hanging out for the next visit.