Comté

Felt the need for a bit of Comté last week, to make a change from my usual Poacher, so off to Borough Market.

Arrive at Waterloo and for once in quite a long while, actually book a book in a bookshop, the surprisingly well stocked branch of Foyles at the station there. An international best seller by Ian McEwan called 'Saturday', prompted by the Brockmeier of reference 1, an international best seller which must have passed me by when it was published around 10 years ago. So full marks to Foyles for still having it. And furthermore, I find that McEwan knows all about the Fitzrovia we swung through the other week - see reference 2. But more of him in due course.

Pulled a Bullingdon from the ramp and pedaled off to the Hop Exchange in Borough, where I took one of the last empty stands. Spotted two large helicopters flying west over Stamford Steet, helicopters which might have been old Westlands and which did not look very commercial at all.

Arrived at a closing cheese shop in the market, but I was able to buy a chunk of medium mature - which is eating well. No walnuts to be seen, so I had a quick look in Southwark Cathedral, where a few dribs and drabs were turning up for Evensong, which meant that most of the Cathedral was shut off. But a verger did tell me that on another occasion I would be able to inspect the tomb of Shakepeare's brother. He also claimed that it was the oldest church in London, presumably in the sense of oldest foundation, as I don't suppose any of the present fabric dates from before the older parts of St. Batholomew the Great of West Smithfield. Although I suppose that, for these purposes, Smithfield being a field might have been outside the city walls. But then, what about Southwark? See reference 3.

Quick visit to the Barrow Boy & Banker, where I heard all about the very Italian tricks being played in connection with the cruise liner driven onto the rocks - the Costa Concordia - while the captain dallied with a young lady from eastern Europe. It seems that the mayor of the town on whose land the liner has been parked is pulling all kinds of orgo-eco stunts which mean that breaking the liner up is costing more than the thing cost in the first place, bringing lots of much needed dosh and work to his beleaguered town. At least that is how the story went. The regular story to be found at reference 4. Refreshments from the ubiquitous Marlborough. Perfectly acceptable but one does wonder how much of the surface of New Zealand they have taken over.

By the time I got back to the Hop Exchange there was a light drizzle and there was a large queue outside a café advertising pancakes. A queue of bright young things, so clearly queuing has become chic. Came quite close to scraping the side of a Mercedes saloon with the handle of my Bullingdon at the exit to Stamford Street but luckily the driver did not, or at least so affected, see my swerve away from his near side. Plenty of slots at the Waterloo Road stand, much the most convenient for getting back into the station - although it does have a bit more style to go around the roundabout and up the ramp. Not on this occasion.

Reference 1: http://psmv3.blogspot.co.uk/2016/02/a-spark-from-anvil-of-academe.html.

Reference 2: http://psmv2.blogspot.co.uk/2016/01/a-swing-through-fitzrovia.html.

Reference 3: http://pumpkinstrokemarrow.blogspot.co.uk/search?q=batholomew.

Reference 4: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Costa_Concordia_disaster.

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