Sunday in Brick Lane and at the wonderful Bridge bar and café

It's mid-October and this is Brick Lane

My lovely friend, Lone (not a typo, it's Danish for Lorna) and her fiancé, Simon travelled from Berkshire to spend the afternoon in London.  They arrived very hungry and whilst waiting for our rendezvous were satisfied with a Square Pie, mash and gravy,  We met up at the Water Poet which was utterly crammed.  We managed to snaffle a little space outside (a bit cheeky as we weren't eating) to have a drink and watch the plates piled with Sunday roast walk past (carried by staff admittedly, I mean, they don't actually walk by themselves).  Dalston joined us and after a brief intermission we all set off to wander the highway and byways of Brick Lane. 

Dalston and I were peckish and although Lone and Simon couldn't physically fit any more food in, they were happy to accompany us to the Boilerhouse.  Dalston and I had enjoyed a selection from the Moroccan food stall on a previous occasion.  This time we chose Latin America and their delicious pasties.  Dalston's choice included a Coxinho of which he spoke highly and, whilst my beef pasty was not as warm as it could have been, the ham and cheese one was - gently oozing as a result.  With the latter I was glad I'd followed the stallholder's recommendations, it was truly delicious.

We had a lovely time pottering about, which including showing Lone my favourite (sadly, financial constraints mean I've yet to purchase) clothes shop in the vicinity; hard by a delightful shop on Cheshire Street which sells nice things but is most notable for the beautiful, deeply furry, pussycats which lounge about the place and are not to be disturbed.  Then it was a search for a café - correciton, there are many cafés, some of them very good, in and around Brick Lane - it was a search for a café which was nice and had seats.  A bit tricky that one.

We decided to head off down to Columbia Road at the tail end of the day (the sun and warmth was quite deceptive, by this time it was just past 4pm).  Alas the Dairy (source of fabulous and authentic Russki svetle chleb, Russian black bread) was shut.  But we did make a discovery, obvious once one has thought of it, the wonderful plants and flowers are on special offer at the end of the market day.  As Dalston is looking for something greenly architectural for his flat (which can be adorned with fairy lights at the appropriate time of the year) this was the perfect occasion on which to browse.  Not only that, but in Lone we had our very own horticultural expert to hand, seriously, with Royal Horticultural Society examinations passed and everything.

Then, oh then, Dalston had a brainwave.  He really is a very clever man, and also perceptive.  On several occasions he has passed a café on the bus, looked down and thought, 'that looks like an interesting place'.  We were close by, well, certainly not far away, and so we headed off to The Bridge on Kingsland Road.

Upstairs at The Bridge, Kingsland Road

You see what I mean about Dalston being perceptive.  Even from the top of a bus he can spot a great place.  It was fantastic.  Dalston and I had delicious Turkish coffees exactly the way we like them (medium for him, no sugar for me); Lone had tea and Simon also had a medium Turkish coffee.  Lone and Simon very kindly treated Dalston and me to the coffee and two little Portugese custard tarts.

Truly, a good time was had by all.  It was a lovely afternoon with an especially nice surprisng treat to round off the day, lounging on a sofa, in surroundings at once snug and sumptuous, with wonderful company.  A delightful Sunday.