Yesterday, under gorgeous blue skies, I walked though St. James Park (where I imagined Gainsborough's lovely models sashaying along in furbelowed frocks) to Buckingham Palace and then crossed over Green Park to Piccadilly. I headed off for a secret assignation with Sir Philip Sidney among the Tudor Collection at the National Portrait Gallery. Later, I ended up having not one, but two teas in Covent Garden. The first was at Candy Cakes, which was really crowded. So we moved over to another little tea shop a few blocks away. I can't remember the name of the place but the elderly proprietor is the sweetest man. He convinced me I had to have the almond cake pictured above (with the sugar cherry), but alas, I only had room left for a bite. The surprise mentioned in yesterday's post turned out to be tickets to the last night of Glengarry Glen Ross at The Apollo. The movie was much better than the play and though you'd think they would give it their all for the final performance, the actors seemed instead to be channeling Britney at the VMAs.
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