Air polyphonic shrill me from my sleep, pale light yellow trains in the morning, gray and blue luxury seats on Eurostar, the superb metal canopy of the new St Pancras station and finally, Thursday, December 3 at 9:30 am just put your foot on the ground in London, a whole atmoshere engulfed me. A simple breath enough to mount a fresh feel joy. Then everything started to speed effreinée ... Bloomsbury intellectual : Traveloge the musty, pretty aggressive squirrel and squeezed greyhounds of Russell Square, the essential (it depends for whom) British Museum, the different stores quaint ... Hampstead the typical granny : old facades, tea time in a Hungarian pastry with gilding and Earl Grey stunning, rich houses with manicured gardens, the shops of yesteryear and the adorable thrift stores ... The City's financial : the rain, the world teeming, umbrellas which avoid each of them, the buildings that rise more than impressive in their hundreds of meters long, glass and steel .. . Shoredicht the dark beloved : alluciantes his boxes, Absolute Vintage, the winding streets a bit cut-throat, Dray Walk, Rough Trade East on beautiful Rough Trade East on hypissime (Temple of the independent London-based label of Libs and institution for lovers of vinyl and CD's of all kinds, both say that I was on the verge of fainting. Additionally, prices were all that it is more reasonable, I did not ask ...), made Brick Lane ...
The next day, the inevitable tourist center, Regent Street, Piccadilly Circus, which has its last breathtaking anything, dribbling envious collections Marc Jacobs, Alexander McQueen and Chloe spring / summer at Liberty the expansive Hyde Park, Oxford Street no less immense, Selfriges, TopShop, Urban Outfitters & co ... that eventually proved disappointing, Old Bond Street and New Bond Street, just circles between the Faubourg St Honore became popular and the frigid Avenue Montaigne, the height of luxury without being intimidating (but still unaffordable malgas all), showcases his more than neat ... Then came the terrible Carnaby Street and adjacent streets, its impressive decorations for Christmas, its creators unknown among them Klaxons (and me) Fourie, pubs and overcrowded incoyables colorful youth and old socialize outside drinking their Guinness in the absence of seats inside, and above all, Berwick Street and Sister Ray record shop in sublime turquoise walls where are hung t-shirts "Closer" or Crystal Castles, an amazing soundtrack and an impressive selection, next: Reckless Records, smaller but equally sharp ... Soho the very beautiful I love you. The evening concert at the Metro Club Mohanski. Good. The third and final day, sunny this time, the repulsive Notting Hill and Portobello Market, where everything is false and overrun with tourists, where the houses are pastel pink, where Orwell lived, where the plates have wind Abbey Road and ugly t-shirts i love london or Jack Daniels, which I thought Adrien BB Brunes crossed with Ray Ban and blonde on his arm (I never know, but the question does torments me any more than that), that said, luckily there are three Rough Trade in London, including a smaller one in Notting Hill, I therefore take this opportunity to go back hehe. Then the afternoon was completely ruined by my little health. Taking severe headache and an urge to vomit at Harvey & Nichols, livid, I rush in the first pharamacien comes, Pakistan, who greeted me with warmth and telephoned a doctor (who m 'was first predicted alcohol abuse, and food poisoning). I graciously throws fours in their toilets moultes times and I fell asleep on a couch amid disemboweled store. After this detailed murky causes bad memories and screwed up a good part of the day, Harrod's. Still immensely extended. T-Shirt Paul Smith, stifling heat and jasmine tea, this is what I removed from the ever-present home. And then, running in the underground train to resume, and kindly go to bed after long epics feroviaires, memories by the handful. We notice that nothing has changed, the clothing style London hotel is always eccentric, fun and beautiful as ours, always allergy group American (no Strokes nothing), having found little disappointment or These New Puritans nor Mando Diao ... The food is always more than disgusting. The myth is not one. Nothing edible except for a sandwich or coffee from Starbucks. But we love, we love ...
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