Fog

Sometimes, fog hinders our vision of the future and all we can do is hang in there until the skies clear up.

How could I go to London and not visit the Hummingbird Bakery?

I found a quiet spot on a bench in front of a museum, people-watching as I slowly indulged in a cupcake. Midway, a middle-aged stranger took a seat beside me and we started chatting.

Don't talk to strangers, they say.
But how would you ever make friends if you don't? 

Good cupcake bakeshops are hard to come by. So while in London, I had to go see if it lives up to its name.

Their Famous Red Velvet Cupcakes with Cream Cheese Frosting (right)

The verdict? Delicate crumb, moist, sweet but not overly so. These cupcakes were good.

Yes, Hummingbird Bakery, you get a spot in my imaginary dessert hall of fame.

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Hummingbird Bakery
133 Portobello Road,
London, Greater London,
England.

The night we said our goodbyes

The pasta wasn't al dente. In fact, we had to send under-cooked pasta back... twice.

But in the end, there was something rustic and authentic about the food. It almost felt like I had an Italian grandmother putting her love into those plates. I couldn't stay mad at grandma. The wild truffle risotto was delicious and the lemon curd is something I would go back for.

We left happy.

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Jamie's Italian
Covent Garden
11, Upper St Martin's,
London, England.

Put on a Hat...

and act all silly.
I dare you.

Happy Monday, everyone! :D

Blue

Opposing Forces

Tonight.

In the Woods

I remember my first night in a tent more vividly than I should. That night, I learned the hard way that rocks don't make for a comfy bed and that thoughts of tigers will keep you awake at night.



A less ancient memory is a spontaneous little midnight hike to the Grand Canyon of Yellowstone, California.

"Meteor shower," they said.
"Sure, why not?" we tagged along.

No meteor showers that night but having the whole place to ourselves was a surreal enough experience in itself. For the most part, we chatted, counted shooting stars, and froze our asses off.

It was quiet- the type of eerie quietness you only get in the middle of the woods at night. Starring down into the canyon made me feel like a tiny, tiny speck in the universe. It was peaceful.

Peaceful... at least until a rustling on our journey back alerted our 'leader' enough to trigger the bear spray. It was a false alarm but rest assure that we will never forget what bear spray feels and tastes like.


Exhausted, we dragged ourselves out of bed the next day only for our actual tour to lead us to the exact same spot of last night's deviance. In daylight, it was all so familiar yet strangely different.

We laughed.