Westbourne Park Station to Notting Hill.

 

I ventured out one morning to complete this walk with the lovely Lyse and Heather. Always equipped with some bag of tricks, they decided to do it backwards and therefore end the pleasurable afternoon with the familiarity of Portobello Road. Considering they'd already done this feat once or twice, I allowed my consent of such rule bending.

Always trust your inner conscience.

......

You see where this is going, don't you.





We came across some beautifully constructed swanky Victorian neighborhoods. (I like to romanticize they are also the influence of my dearest Queen Vicky.) The varying pastel colors of adjoined houses made me giddy, similar to how I react in the presence of the marshmellow, gummy, and chocolate-y hues of The Sweet Factory. It also further confirmed my belief that the English should be responsible for architecture all around the world. These people really are on to something.





Then we reached the mecca that is Portobello Market on a Saturday morning. Glorious. Stands and tents of all shapes and smells extended until the horizon my short 5"3' frame provided. I expected to see Julia Roberts and Hugh Grant come walking out hand-in-hand at any moment.

It didn't happen. But I have not given up on finding that bookshop and red door.

Eventually as the sugar munchies wore on Lyse and Heather, as they seem to always do, we stopped at a cafe for lunch. It was the bad omen of things to come. After waiting for what seemed hours for their hot chocolate, we decided to just leave.
 
And then we got lost.




No longer peeved, I'll refrain from much more venting and allow positiveness to prevail.

The confusion caused by the outlying District and Circle tube lines and the literal three back-and-forth rides we had before discovering the yellow brick home, gave us the opportunity to see the stark contrast of the more "project" aspect of town.

Words to the wise, backwards is backwards for a reason.