Summer, in London, can be heavenly – or hellish.
Into my collection of memories goes one of each:
Heavenly: a day spent in Regent’s Park with one of my dearest friends. The roses – all 30,000 of them – at their peak. Al fresco lunch at the Garden Café.
Hellish: shopping for a black suit with a sullen teenager. Tense negotiations over hemlines, the backwash of the summer sales, the cattle-car Tube.
All of that density of humid humanity is just too much for city streets . . . better to spread it out over the 410 acres of Regent’s Park.
Summer is bare feet in the grass – but also standing in line to buy new school shoes.
Summer is a stroll through a rose garden – but also the dutiful trip to the dentist.
Summer is all about hanging out with your friends – but also that bored week at home when everyone else seems to be on vacation.
Give me the summer blues . . . but only if they are delphiniums.
