Today felt like a day for exploring. The sun streamed through the windows, we were up and ready so early that Henry had a 9am nap – hello, what? – and we found ourselves with a spare hour before lunchtime. Pausing only to eat some vanilla cheesecake (I don’t need a reason) I stashed him in the pushchair and off we jolly well set.
Everything looks better in sunshine, doesn’t it? Battle Library looks marvellous in any weather, but today it shone.
I love the fact that they bothered to carve library-appropriate quotes in the pavement outside.
Shame on you, smokers.
We were seriously tempted by several destinations, including the steroid shop and a window display made entirely of heads. Do you think they would sell me one if I asked? Worth a shot.
But as we hovered closer to lunchtime and the cheesecake seemed to have evaporated entirely, we ended up here.
We almost met with disaster immediately as the door was far too narrow for my pushchair. Thankfully the gentleman behind the counter saw my minute of dithering and opened the other half of the door. I was reassured that Elle’s Baguettes is available not only to pushchairing mothers, but extra-wide people (of which, on Oxford Road, there are not a few).
Once inside, I asked the lovely man what he recommended (where was Elle? A mystery). We came away with a chicken and bacon baguette, some apple juice and a packet of crisps, which is their meal deal, and costs £3.50. They also sell paninis and jacket potatoes of various strains. You can get fruit or a cookie instead of the crisps, but I wanted to see whether my pregnancy crisp obsession was still in force. It is not. Dear Walkers, try to contain your disappointment. The baguette, though, was really quite good.
As an aside: we got home, laboriously dismantled the pushchair and dragged everything up the stairs, and only then did I realise I’d forgotten to take a photo of Elle’s Baguettes itself. So I got Henry in the car seat, drove down there, took one and drove away again, looking very suspicious indeed to passers-by. How do spies go about taking discreet photos? Whatever skill that is, I don’t have it.