New Year's resolutions
It has been a while since my last blog, but the close of 2010 seemed an appropriate occasion to begin a new blog for a new year, and one which I mean to add to on a much more regular basis than my spontaneous blogging debut in November.
The second day of the year dawned very promisingly: blue skies, sunshine, an absence of the previous day's raging headache and of the general feeling of dehydration and nausea, and the prospect of an enthusiastic gym session at the Hurlingham courtesy of Alice.
Three tube stops later and a brisk walk from Putney Bridge, we purposefully strode into the gym where we were greeted by several thin, tanned, and toned, blonde and perfectly manicured, 50 something year old women, with bodies such as we could never realistically aspire to having. Not to be deterred, we programmed our respective cross trainers and treadmills and began the New Year regime. 50 minutes later, I dismounted the bike and in true Bridget Jones style, quickly had to grab hold of the machine to steady myself as my body indignantly protested at this brutal treatment to which it had been subjected, and we then tentatively tried out a few stretching machines before beating a hasty retreat to the pool. A few casual lengths and it was high time for a jacuzzi session followed by the steam room, by which time we had completely forgotten about the pain of half an hour before, which is responsible for the false impression that it wasn't that bad and will therefore do it all again tomorrow.
When we had had as much as we could bear of the stifling atmosphere and the skinny women triumphantly parading themselves around the pool-side, we showered and changed and emerged as new people, refreshed and revitalised and ready to take on 2011. The cafe was closed so we ambled down the street until we reached Le Pain Quotidien, as yet unfrequented by me but on my list of places to eat.
Immediately, I could have been in the South of France, a scene from Chocolat perhaps, with the classic oak tables and rustic design, shelves of jams and preserves for sale, classical music playing, and silver pots of jams and spreads on each individual table. The menu was one which instantly conveyed a message of quality, class, and flavour, and one which dared to suggest it wasn't going to disappoint. A cool raspberry elderflower, a ginger beer, tomato and basil soup of the day, smoked salmon pate with cucumber and a rocket and parmesan salad with a delicious dressing between us, each served with a variety of rustic nutty breads, made for an ambiance of utter contentment and satisfaction. An important find, and a place which I feel sure I shall frequent regularly in the future!
As we went our separate ways at Parson's Green tube station, it was with a newly acquired feeling of fitness and sense of purpose, and every intention to continue in the same vein... so far so good!
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