This morning’s threat of rain keeps us close to home. A bright half moon and street lights glow as we walk over the hill. London’s morning
skyline shimmers.
We pass our local NHS (National Health Service) Clinic -- there are enough free public clinics throughout London that there's almost always one near enough to walk to! What a concept...health care on your doorstep! And if you're getting older (60 or over) and that walk seems to long, hop on a city bus for free with your Pensioners Pass. Seems like a no-brainer to us.
Washington, are you watching?
We hike down into Ladywell
Village where the “Village Café” welcomes us with smiles and mugs of piping hot
tea.
Two years ago our hosts took over
the café’s management, installed attractive white and black tiles, and started
serving “tea concentrate” – tea brewed extra-strong in a large pot, then served
with diluted water, the way we enjoyed it in Zimbabwe. No tea ba, to figure out where to put. Just dark hot tea. With hot milk, this is a treat today.
Another pleasure is the absence of food
photos – just the menu board and the shiny tiles, all the way to the loo!
There’s a TV high in one corner, but thankfully the volume
remains soft until “Dancing with the Stars” comes on. Then it fades again.
The poached eggs on brown toast make a pretty picture. Happy
Husband gratefully digs in.
The main street of Ladywell Village has been recently
redone. We were expecting trees and
benches and something to show for the price tag. The main feature is flagstones instead of
pavement, but nothing green and no benches that might invite passers-by to
loiter….except the two picnic tables under the awning in front of our own
Village Café!
The proprietors explain
that they have had to postpone external improvements. Because this is a Conservancy Area, regulations
require they use only wood on the front exterior, and for now the cost is
prohibitive.Today workmen paint road surface traffic signs, and the
windows get a wash
I realize I’m in a serious men zone; no other female (other
than the proprietor) enters the Café during our two hour meal. Lots of take
outs. A favourite dish seems to be Bubble,
a large green patty made from yesterday’s over-cooked (my opinion) Brussels
sprouts mixed with…I’ll need to look that up.
The bonus of the morning...a rainbow stretching across Ladywell!
On our way, we encounter people
who remind us that we really
are in London. And a row of derelict
sheds – might they be protected by royal edict? – add a Dickensonian flare.
We pass the towers and spires of the old Lewisham court and police station, recently refurbished into numerous flats.
Lewisham High Street entertains us with its daily market which has
continued for close to 100 years except for a few occasions during WWII
when the High Street was mostly flattened by bombings. Only the clock tower remains. Smells of fish, bread and fruit surround us.
We load up with fresh Brussels sprouts,
mangos and garlic, a pound sterling for a bowl of each.
So, next time you're in Lewisham, at Ladywell Village, drop in to the Village Cafe and enjoy a hot cup of brewed tea. They're open at 6:30 am!
Not sure where to head for an early Breakfast in Preston, Devon at 6:30 am, we ask the Egg Delivery Man whose van sits outside our Guest house. "Hop in," he beckons. We tend toward the naive trusting way of life, and hope for the best in people, so in we hop. Mr Friendly Eggman drops us off in front of Frankie's Cafe on the main commercial street in Paignton.Great choice!
Frankie's interior decor oozes beach-theme. The light blue and white colours remind one of a beach box. Lots of thoughtful touches, too -- a toaster on each table, and soothing wall art.
The proprietors, a friendly young couple -- he talks, she cooks -- explain that they started up four years ago. When the competition between lunch cafes became so rigorous they changed a year ago to a breakfast cafe. One of them, we assume it's She, must be a "J" personality (think Myers-Briggs) as evidenced by the printed and posted week's cleaning rota which inlcudes everything from wipe down table legs to clean behind oven to scour extraction (grill hood).The poached eggs are the real thing -- perfectly runny. The table is solid, not at all rocky -- always a blessing. I like to cut my egg on toast without table movement! At about 8:00 Charlotte, a young waitress with tattoos running up her arm, joins the team. My brother-in-law manufactures the decal transfer paper used by tattoo parlours around the world, so we now take more note of tattoos and tattoo parlours, which are prolific in small-town Britain.
After our leisurely eggs on toast meal, we stroll along the promenade, enjoying the English Riviera. We even find the penny arcade fortune teller Zoltar, straight out of the film Big!
