After breezing through customs @ Heathrow, a fabulous cabbie named Nick drove west to Isle of Dogs, my home away from home thru year-end. (Love those spacious, clean London dial-a-cabs!) After a quick unpack (and successful destruction of 2 converters), I headed out to Canary Wharf (surprisingly populated for a financial district Saturday). My first find was The Parlour, a beautiful-beyond-words gastro-pub which, I am certain, will become my 'local'. Dave the bartender, who told me to shout for him whenever bar was crowded and I needed a pint (he's going to regret that), let me in before opening to take snaps.
Odds are you'll find me there tomorrow morning buried behind the Sunday Times, tucking into a plate of Boiled Eggs & Buttered Toast Fingers. Then I'm headed here, for some new power cords.