meemalee

I've just been in Japan for a fortnight and I really didn't want to leave. But when I was on the plane back to Blighty, I decided to count my blessings, one of which is a little Vietnamese cafe near my office called City Caphe . Open only at lunchtimes, I've got through many a long morning at my desk by day-dreaming about City Caphe's food. The day-dreaming continues as I wait in their queue which stretches out the door - it's a dratted constant, but it's worth standing there, even in the rain. Sometimes I press my nose against the window, Charlie Bucket-like, to stare at the gorgeous steaming dishes that others are already enjoying. The queue continues to wind inside, but rather charmingly, they have a selection of books for the hungry punters to pass the time. I'm not a bread person, but even I adore City Caphe's banh mi, and their summer rolls are the best I've had ( apart from my own ) - packed with prawns and herbs, though there's a tofu ve

We get in to London Bridge at 8.12. I kiss him farewell as he travels on to Charing Cross, and join the crowd which oozes blearily onto the platform. At 8.14, as we stumble along, the train to Gravesend pulls in, and as usual it takes all of my (frankly waning) will-power not to climb on it and chug my way back home. The crowd bottlenecks, then shuffles to the top of escalators, and I grab a copy of Metro from halfway down the pile in a Jenga move. I note that their stands have changed from blue to silver, and I feel a small thrill of excitement and then realise I need to get out more. Everyone else shoves and rushes, but I'm happy to stand on the right as I rummage in my bag to work out what I've forgotten (there's always something). At the bottom, I cross Tooley Street and walk past the London Dungeon, gaudily unfrightening in the early morning light, and I stop at the fruit and veg stall and buy a punnet of flat peaches for a pound. "I don't need a bag, thanks&q