As a mum, you have to be a driver, a personal trainer, a tutor, a cook, a cleaner, a therapist, a friend, a bad guy …but also a personal assistant. Honestly, my daughters’ social life is sometimes hard to follow. I simply can’t keep up –and I must admit that I might be a bit jealous too… Today, I realised that I had completely forgotten to buy a present for yet another birthday party and had to rush to Peter Jones (one of the leading stores in London) to find one. Nightmare. It was going to take me at least one hour. I wasn’t going to be able to go to the gym as planned during my lunch break because I had so much to do and couldn’t afford to have two long breaks during the day. Such a shame: I really stuffed my face all weekend. I will have to keep my fat this time.
Before Pimlico even existed…(1827)
I therefore decided to walk from Pimlico to Sloane Square, thinking that the exercise would do me some good in the absence of a much-needed workout. I was walking while it wasn’t raining, and it felt nice to wander through the Pimlico streets. Pimlico is often referred as “the Pimlico grid”. This is because Pimlico streets are straight and very disciplined. No fancy turns. They cross each other at a similar distance and it is all about ensuring that the houses follow the same style and the view isn’t obstructed. That said, I especially enjoyed the variety of the colours of the entrance doors: some were bright red, or grey, or blue. And somehow, it all felt quite relaxed.
Everything changed when I entered Belgravia, one of the poshest parts of London. All entrance doors were the same dark grey, no more fancy colours. The houses around Sloane Square were all bright white. I saw a couple of delivery guys knocking on the grey doors, only to the greeted by the lady of the house tightly wrapped in a fluffy white towel. I was feeling slightly jealous: they had had time for a workout and a shower in the middle of the morning. They were very skinny and very blonde. And here I was, rushing to buy a small toy for a child.
And then, I saw something that stuck to my mind. This delivery guy knocked at the door of another stucco-fronted house. A lovely blonde wrapped in an even lovelier towel opened the door, took the guy’s hand, and led him inside the house. She tightly closed the dark grey door.
I couldn’t believe my eyes. Well, the doors may be grey around Sloane Square, but what is happening behind them seems to be a lot more colourful.Delivery services in London can vary. Some, apparently, go the extra mile!
Muriel – A French Yummy Mummy In London