mushy-pea-green
up early and buzzing, as usual currently.
drive my spanish lady friend to london and we drop in on the bunker to check all is well.
just before i turn the final corner into the industrial estate i wonder if the locks will still be intact.
this has become an arriving at the bunker ritual
all IS well and the east-ish facing outside wall is drenched in perfect sunlight: i can't wait to shoot here.
swop lights at the pro centre and catch a train to bodmin parkway in cornwall.
the girl sitting across the aisle is shouting down her mobile phone, '...yeah: he wants to split up NOW and get back together after university...i CAN'T be single for three years: these are the best years of my life! AND he's JUST got his inheritance through...all this time i've been with him, he's been poor: he owes me £2000 and NOW he wants to split up, NOW his inheritance is in...'
it's strange how people talking on mobile phones act like people can't hear them.
i am 'seen' on the train but i am not spoken to (i find this out later via facebook)
catch an expensive taxi to a large house in the countryside.
i make a comment on twitter about the green bathroom that has 'mushy-pea-green walls'
the walls are on twitter and tweet back that the green was aspiring to be the '...perfect green inspired by Charleston House & the Bloomsbury group of writers.'
tone takes us in his taxi to the st kew inn for dinner which is delicious and well worth a visit.
as we are waiting for our return taxi, a drunk local comes in and tries to join in the game of cards i am playing with my spanish lady friend.
i don't turn round at first and when i do, he immediately backs away and apologies.
later i decline his offer of a pint of lager.
as he's leaving the bar, he says 'where are you from?'
'london' i say.
does this explain my hostility in the hostelry?
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