Expect the unexpected

I thought I might bring you some more urban scenes today, but...

First surprise of the day was when the talking bus, the 171, ( yes, the buses talk in London, and very handy it is, too) announced that we were at East Street. A flood of memories engulfed me: my first boyfriend, East Street Market, Carter St police station ( he was a rookie policeman in the Met) the Union Jack Club near Waterloo station where he lived for a while. It was mostly all still there, in the flesh. The police station appears to be a bank now ( but I need to check that out) but rest was in place, even down to the Italian restaurant at which we used to eat, near Waterloo. 35 years and still going strong! Unlike that relationship, which could never have lasted, given our political differences. Wonder if the waiters at the Caprini still wear those tight trousers. Only one way to find out...

But not today. I had miles to travel. Eventually I arrived at Wanstead station, where i had to meet the owners of the next house and cat sit, which starts next week. I found Wanstead and the surrounding area very agreeable. Wanstead village is a conservation area, so has a quaint charm, many pavement cafes and several charity shops! The cats will pose a challenge. There are four, for starters. However, I am sure I will be comfortable there and not short of feline company if the weather changes and I want to stay indoors.

I walked back to the tube via Wanstead Park ( part of Epping Forest) and and across these heady-scented bluebell woods. Straying from the path is not permitted, hence the angle of this blip.
Wanstead park also hosts a temple! Maybe a future blip?

After exploring Wanstead village, I walked to Snaresbrook station and caught the train back into town. I'd intended to go to a local gallery today because it's closed tomorrow, but it was too hot for further walking (26 degrees celsius in the Walworth Road) so I sat in the garden with a glass of water and a jigsaw puzzle.

Eventually, when it cooled, I watered the garden. I did the back, then filled a plastic bottle and walked out to the front. I was just thinking that I ought to make sure that the door didn't slam shut by wedging it, when suddenly the wind caught it and guess what? I was on the outside, in the street, in my pyjama bottoms!

Fortunately the neighbours had a ladder. Even more fortunately, the woman of the house pointed out the cats' short cut, which doesn't require any leaping. So i got in through the back door, which I'd left open. No harm done. I will have to own up to the owners, but it's a lesson to me about keys. I think I need a karabiner clip. And some jeans or shorts on which to clip them: never, ever wear pyjamas in the street! (Even when there's a heatwave and the only summer trousers are hanging on the line.)