Big Pix,
I am not sure if you are fond of a bevvy, but when I lived in Notting Hill Gate I used to go into the pub opposite the tube station and there they sold my most fond drop by the pint:
I highly recommend it if you like a good dark beer. (A word of caution though: there was an incredibly attractive 'Tom' working out of that front bar who was most concerned for my solitude. To put any rumours to rest: I retained my solitude at all times.)
I also used to get a good steak at the Leinster in Pembridge Square (where I lived) and the
ONLY good coffee I've ever found in britain was at the tacky '
Diana Café' on the Queensway opposite the rear to Kensington Gardens. I got an absolute cracker of a shot there one morning. A typical older Pommie dolt came in with the Coca-Cola bottle bottom glasses, leather-elbowed tweed jacket and several weeks worth of egg yolk dribbled on shirt, tie and lapel without favouritism. he sat oppsite against a wall covered in pics of the dead girl. Some with black garlands, others of ski-field fun with the boys and so forth. he had the Guardian open at a double page spread with a giant reversed head:
Best of all I was totally and successfully surreptitious using, as i do, the little Olympus MJU-II. It was one of those pics that register as a
Bresson Moment.
Cheers,