Who's Got The Crack?

So it's been over 24 hours since I came back from my half a week in London and I'm pretty sure I'm having big city withdrawals because I'm super tired and cranky as all hell. And seriously craving tea. Smoked tea. With soy milk. Which is what people coming off the crack and/or big city want, right? On second thoughts this might have something to do with not having smoked a whole cigarette since being in England. I might just be going smoke-mad. Either way, Lapsang Souchong me up please.

To make the breaking of my London cherry as painless as possible, we stuck mainly to the usual touristy things. We saw the London Eye from below, played where's Micky Mouse (like Where's Wally but real and just generally much better), visited modern art gallery, the Tate Modern, accidentally shat on God's face (according to the no photograph religious bouncer/priest man/pope) by taking photos inside Saint Paul's Cathedral, hung out in Soho, wandered along Portobello Road, marvelled at the snow they sell in Harrods, did lots of rather average vintage shopping, ran around Hyde Park a couple of times, had a beer in the National Gallery and I think I spent more time on public transport in the last few days than I had in the weeks and weeks preceding. All that sweat, smoke, pollution and undergrounding is disgusting and awesome at the same time. Not unlike seeing a lamb being born, which I was privilaged/cursed with seeing last week.

Bobby eating an apple at the Tate Modern.

Saint Paul's Cathedral.

Vintage shopping at The East End Thrift Store.

Pastels on Portabello Road.

Harrods.

Snow in Harrods.

Sunglasses: £2 from Primark

Top: £4 from an Eastbourne charity shop.
Purple tights: Left overs from one of my Vintage and Retro Fashion sales.

The conclusion of all this is I need more Mickey Mouse, pastel and smoke in my life, pronto.