Let’s Spend A Saturday In London (There Are Ballpools)

A couple of weeks back, my pal and I met in London (a convenient middle ground) for a long overdue catch-up. It felt like one of the first days this winter that was properly cold and properly bright – the perfect crisp winter day. As a result we didn’t bother with public transport all day, choosing to stomp everywhere, take in London and enjoy the fresh vitamin D whilst catching up. Here’s how the day went:

Botanical Brunch @ Mr Fogg’s House of Botanicals

We kicked off with brunch (how all Saturdays should start tbh); we’d booked a table at Mr Fogg’s House of Botanicals based on an Instagram recommendation – yes, this is how I find most places to eat these days. The whole restaurant is basically Instagram porn and – sucker than I am for anything photogenic – I very much approved. Mainly cos that spiral staircase. It wasn’t just style over substance though and the food is also worth shouting about. We both went for the Baltic hashbrowns, home-cured G&T salmon and horseradish crème fraiche, although admittedly I was also incredible tempted by the blueberry bacon pancake stack (anyone else have a regular battle with sweet or savoury when out for brunch?). The hashbrowns were tasty and the décor seriously easy on the eye. Plus the staff were really friendly so, yes, would highly recommend Mr Fogg’s. Equally, glad I went for the savoury in the end because next stop was…

Cookies @ Crème

Oh man these cookies. I’ve had my eye on them for a while, ever since The Anna Edit brought them up and compared them to the NYC Levain bakery cookies (which as we all know, I became somewhat obsessed with). The Crème shop is tiny, just like bakeries in NYC. The cookies are rock-cake like on the outside and squishy like a pillow on the inside – I recommend the miso and white chocolate flavour; trust me it works.

The John Soane Museum

Seeing as it was nearby and free, we took a quick wander around the John Soane museum; former home of architect John Soane and full of many, many, drawings and models. It was slightly surreal but the sheer number of models was breathtaking. A bit of a hidden treasure; it’s not one I would have usually bothered with or necessarily known about but it was worth a visit.

The Postal Museum

We basically paid £17 to ride the mail rail. Bear with me here. The Postal Museum itself is interesting and worth a visit, but I’m not sure I’d pay £17 for the privilege. There were, however, three things that made the cost seem worth it. The first being that we had our faces put on a stamp. That was lolz. The second was that there was an exhibition on the great train robbery which was really interesting. And the third was that we got to ride a miniature underground train. London used to have a tube network running beneath the streets just for post; mini tube carriages designed for transporting sacks of letters around the city. And you can take a ride on it. It’s hilariously cramped (designed for letters, not people) so don’t go if you get claustrophobic or don’t want to be up close and personal with your mate, but do go to see the real life tubes that the mail used to travel down for so many years and hear the real life stories of the people who used to work on the mail rail. V interesting.

Ballie Ballerson

Somewhat of a jump from our afternoon of culture, our next stop was a ball pool bar. Because obviously. The fact that we got there at 5 and were both wearing sensible coats gives you an idea as to how often we go to underground bars these days but we were hardly there for the night out. Did somebody say ball pool?! I can’t remember something that has made us giggle as much (and this was before the mental cocktails we ordered, one of which had marshmallows which she set on fire). It was a hoot. If you ever want to escape adult life for a bit, go throw yourself into a ball pool and enjoy the giddy childish glee in seems to incite in grown adults.

We rounded off the day with pizza at Franco Manco (where else?) and sensibly-timed trains home because all that ball pool jumping was tiring.