MikePadgett.com

The slow train to Richmond

— From Wagamama to Crabtree & Evelyn, all the shops are packed with the thirtysomething fritterati.”

Hotbed of the venerable London moccasin scene, Richmond has got it all. From Wagamama to Crabtree & Evelyn, all the shops were packed this weekend with the thirtysomething fritterati of our great nation’s capital(ists).

I was there too, for Richmond is also the home of J’s sister (also a J) and her chap S. They live in a house much like this:

Those of you who have visited Richmond will know that many of the houses in that borough look like this, usually converted into a series of apartments to maximise the ROI.

The weekend started slowly. An individual had been the subject of a ‘fatality’ which caused delays at Reading station and mixed feelings among the stranded passengers.

Enjoyed a meal in a very orange branch of Giraffe. It was all you could do to avoid the pushchairs of numerous small children taught since birth to express themselves freely by virtue of their vocal chords. Nevertheless, the food was pleasant and the staff tolerably perky.

The food was described by S as “fusion”. Seems a fairly accurate term, if you divest it of those horrible 80s connotations it used to have. After all, where else could one enjoy jerk chicken on skewers with hot mango chutney followed by a fried breakfast surrounded by the young and the not-so-young-but-amply-made-up?

I’m also sure a longer visit would turn up some of those interesting architectural anomalies you often find in these affluent suburbs.