Wednesday, May 3/2023

 Walk over to Kilburn High Road via Belsize Road (and, incidentally past Abbey Road of other fame). Have spent a lot of time along Kilburn High Road in the past and needed to renew acquaintance. Not a great deal of coronation excitement here. There are changes but not all that many. Look in a charity shop and spot a backpack. Good material and the right size, just as I’m about to give up on trying to wrestle both suitcase and carry on. Meets J’s design criteria - always, rightly, more demanding than mine. So, proud possessor of same - we’ll see how it goes.

Passing Roses Restaurant, the place we’ve most consistently eaten in London. A wave from a man seated in the window, who emerges smiling broadly. It’s the Turkish proprietor, who recognises us after more than three years as loyal, if intermittent, customers. 

It’s been a tough three years, especially at the beginning. Eventually the government helped but it was difficult as he tried to look after his employees, a couple of whom he took into his household. And difficult in Turkey as well. He’s been back since the earthquake, which killed his mother and other family members. Kleftiko? He hasn’t made it for a long time. Come tomorrow and he will make it for us. (It is, arguably, the best we’ve had). Tomorrow won’t work for us, but it is now mid-afternoon, place half empty, fairly good social distancing, door open and good ventilation….We stop for fish and chips - though actually when the girl tells us apologetically that there is only one portion of cod, I switch mine to salmon. Both meals so enormous we can’t finish, though J manages all but the last of the chips - fish too good to leave.