I can’t compare my lifestyle with that of a flighty courtesan, more’s the bloody pity, but I can understand this all right. Though for Tiffany’s, read the food shops of the John Lewis Partnership. Oh yes. A Waitrose has opened its doors on St John’s Street. All is well with the world.

So this is what Friday nights can be like. Last week instead of doing the after work drinks, I went to the Anish Kapoor exhibition at The Royal Academy. The last art exhibition that really blew me away on a sensory level was Antony Gormley’s Blind Light showcase at the Hayward in 2007. So you could say I was overdue another killer gallery experience.

I went into the Royal Academy not knowing at all what to expect, although the large piece in the courtyard should have been a good indication. I guess the most shocking thing was the sense of scale. Standing next to some of his pieces reminded me of those scales in books comparing the size of a human to blue whales and other large animals. Tonnes of exploded red wax (pictured), expansive yellow holes in walls, right down to sculptures made with fine sediment. It was engaging and totally art for boys and girls. Art that evokes an immediate emotional response. And that’s the type of art I like to experience.

I recommend prebooking and going to this on weeknight. It was less crowded and much more comfortable than during the weekend (the queue for tickets was so long on a Saturday we didn’t go in.) It runs until the 11th of December.

Royal Academy website.

So, my friends Christopher and Ivan were passing by Blackbridge today and kind fellows that they are, bought me a truly wonderful present. Two Eccles Cakes from St John.

Eating these required a certain something else so I strode manfully up to Whitecross Market to the Neal’s Yard stall and bought me some Mrs Kirkhams Lancashire cheese.

I’m literally all smiles now.

For us, anyway:

Clicky

Just next to Holborn - quite random, but pretty cool.

You need to book tickets as it’s on a schedule (but it is free).

That said, as anybody who has visited us recently will know, for the last year we’ve been blessed by our proximity to one of the contenders for London’s best café, the J & A. That’s a whole different post which I’ll really have to get around to one day, but right now, I’m here to talk about the other shining light in our lunchtimes - Whitecross Street Market.

Back in the proverbial, Whitecross Street was notable to me because of a rather chaotic second-hand record shop (now gone the way of every other rather chaotic second-hand record shop I used to visit), a great sushi place and the rather alarming occasion when while walking to work one morning ages ago, some local toughs threw an egg at me. They missed. Luckily for them. Ahem. Anyway, anyway, now, this has all been eclipsed by it having become one of this part of London’s finest features - you really should witness the food stalls which now populate Whitecross Street, especially on Thursday and Friday. Such choice! You can queue up for a burrito, buy a flatwhite made by the world’s best barrista, have a fine Chicken sandwich (which happens to often be the choice of my esteemed colleague Finn) or enjoy at least a dozen other exciting options. There are still blokes selling sweets, dodgy CDs and batteries too. It is great, my friends. And fortunately for us all, just slightly far enough away to avoid a daily visit, which is a darn good thing for our waistlines. Happy us. Happy us!

And talking of burritos…

I know it’s September now but the weather today couldn’t be more autumnal if it started hailing chestnuts, brown leaves and pumpkins while mist swirled around my office and the smell of a bonfire wafted past. I’m actually wearing a scarf. And a hat. But that’s purely an affectation - it’s lovely and warm here at Blackbridge.

My summer at least ended with a bit of bang as where I live I could enjoy the Notting Hill Carnival with the benefit of still being at home. While I sadly didn’t see any jolly ladies wearing a policeman’s helmet, I did spend some time at the Aba Shanti Sound System which caused considerable internal vibrations then passed five minutes at Good Times while Norman Jay played ‘Can You Feel It’ by the Jacksons with what can only be described as quite simply sub-human bass levels. I also saw a bloke dancing with no shirt on while wearing a horse’s head at Sancho Panza. At 1.30pm. Which was weird. My girlfriend and I decided that the two days were far better spent sitting at home listening to the passing sound systems (as can be seen below) and being gracious hosts to a variety of footsore visitors.

On Sunday night I played a ‘yacht rock’ set at a party of the boat two down from mine: Hall and Oates. POW! The Doobie Brothers. SMACK! Robert Palmer. KAZAM! ‘Crockett’s Theme’ by Jan Hammer. KABOOM! Very amusing indeed.

And I’m off to Barcelona tomorrow. Maybe there’s still some fun to be wrung out of the season yet?

Apologies for the tardiness of this post; Michael Giovanni Stephen Potter was born July 16th, at 10.55pm, a full 10 days’ late in the end. Weighing in at a frankly unnecessary 9lbs at birth, and at a whopping 56cm in length, he is officially a Giant Child. He is already past 2ft tall and onto his second crib. I’m sourcing miniature basketballs as we speak.

The little fella is brilliant, has already made his presence felt in our lives like some sort of tiny dictator, shouting orders and pressing us into service at unholy hours of the day and night, but of course we wouldn’t have it any other way. The concept of An Unbroken Night’s Sleep looms like a shining promised land in the hazy mist of nostalgia… meanwhile reality is facing down a full nappy and squalling infant at 3.35am. Strange how little you mind.