A magical week in London, part two.

If there’s one British tradition I’ve always loved it’s high tea.

Unfortunately, I didn’t think to make any reservations before arriving. After googling ‘best high tea in London’ a few times I settled on a few I wanted to try. I looked into The Goring and The Drawing Room at Brown’s, but they were booked. Ultimately, the deciding factor was what reservation I could get last minute. I booked at The Corinthia forgetting that Dilini and I had had drinks at the bar not three days ago..

The atrium in which tea is served at The Corinthia is big and bright and not particularly cozy in the way I picture tea to be. I ask to be seated under the massive chandelier and I’m placed at a table that is the centerpiece of the room. Anyone arriving at the hotel would look ahead and up at the chandelier and see me sitting alone underneath.

Matthew arrives and welcomes me to the Corinthia and offers me the menu and would I like to start with a glass of champagne? I would. The flute is heavy and I struggle at first to pick it up,

The pianist begins to play the theme song to Beauty and the Beast.

When Matthew brings the sandwiches there’s two of each on the plate. He tells me he hasn’t bothered to set the tray for one and invites me to enjoy. The food is great, the pastries plentiful. I can barely finish it all and contemplate bringing some home, but I won’t be heading home afterwards. Dilini has booked a book tasting presented by Service95 and Kricket Shoreditch in the evening..

What is a book tasting? I wasn’t quite sure myself. I ask Dilini if Dua Lipa is going to be there recommending her favorite books. She tells me she doesn’t think she’ll be there.

As I leave I notice a gathering of people in the lobby. Outside there are paparazzi and fans standing behind a velvet rope holding onto Wednesday memorabilia. I can only assume that Jenna Ortega is in town, either staying at the hotel or enjoying a spa treatment. I don’t linger to find out.

I walk along the Thames in the direction of Shoreditch, heading inland near the Waterloo Bridge through Farrington and past St. Paul’s Cathedral. and the bustling area around the Bank of England in Barbican. I don’t particularly like the latter area before realizing it’s like being in the Financial District of New York during working hours. I miss my quieter neighborhoods set away from the main streets and business and tourist centers.

The book tasting turns out to be an event where staff members recommend their favorite book of the moment. Each title is paired with a cocktail and a bite from the kitchen. It’s a great event and they pause between each book so that we can mingle and get to know the staff and one another. It’s one of the most fun social events I’ve been to, and I get to meet not only the writers and editors of Service95 but also some of the guests seated near me. Dua does not attend.

Dilini leaves shortly after the event. Walking out Eilish asks me if I know where I’m going. I tell her I had thought about walking home but it’ll take a little over an hour and have decided to take the Tube. We walk for a bit in the same direction and she tells me she’s recently returned from a few yeas in Ghana. She’s starting a new job and trying to figure out her life in London anew. She tells me great things about Accra and suddenly an itinerary for the first quarter of 2026 starts to form in my head.

•

Dilini has arranged a picnic for us in the park. It’s something she’s long wanted to do and is happy I’ve given her the opportunity (or excuse). She tells me it’s not something one really does as a group (at least the way she’s presenting it). We’ll pick up a basket and food from The Rubens at the Palace and then make our way to St. James’s Park for our meal. She’s bought a blanket for the occasion.

Once again I decide to walk. I’m really learning a lot about the city on my daily walks to and from our activities and I’m liking London more and more with each passing day.

My walk takes me once again through Hyde Park and I find myself discovering parts of the park I have yet to visit. I love how in certain areas the grass has been left to grow giving the park a more natural and wild tenor.

I am early to the restaurant and take a seat in the lobby. Dilini arrives in a wonderful outfit and I tell her how much I appreciate the fact that she’s been dressing up for all of our occasions. Living out of a backpack, I have but two outfits that I can make into four, but none of them match the care with which Dilini dresses. It’d be fun to pack just for a week in London, bringing dressier sets of clothes and shoes.

We pick up our basket, a bag of food (the amount of which couldn’t fit in the basket), and a bottle of wine and head to the park. It’s been raining a little off and on, but the rain holds as we enter St. James’s Park and find a grassy spot to sit with views of the lake.

We have troubles keeping our wineglasses level and I end up spilling most of my wine. When I lament this to a cousin of mine she sends me a link to wine glasses with stakes for stems that you can secure in the ground. It’s a genius solution; one I wish that they’d bring to London.

It rains during our picnic and then the sun comes out, instantly turning the day hot before it hides once again behind the clouds and the temperature cools. I set off in search of additional bottles of wine, finding small ones at a kiosk nearby in the park.

I have dinner plans with Augustina, a friend from Buenos Aires who has been nomading in Europe. She happens to be in London for a few weeks and I’m excited to reconnect with her. We’ll miss each other in Buenos Aires this year; I’m returning in October, but she’ll be elsewhere once again.

We’ve made plans to meet at July and I walk a circuitous route to the restaurant, down some narrow streets and cute alleys, hoping I’ll remember some of these spots for the next time I come to London. We sit outdoors, side-by-side on a bench overlooking the sidewalk and street. It’s great seeing her and we catch each other up on our lives as the sun slowly sinks in the sky.

After dinner we stop into Soho House 40 Greek Street for a nightcap. I’m surprised how lively Greek Street is; the pubs overflow onto the sidewalk and the sound of laughter and shouted conversations echo off the buildings.

The house is busy, the roof closed for a private event. We find a quiet corner outdoors in what what once was probably a shaft and continue chatting until it’s time to head home.

It’s another day and I’ve decided to have tea once again. I can’t seem to help myself. Dilini has booked us for drinks with a friend at Side Hustle, the bar attached to the NoMad followed by dinner at Quo Vadis a historic Soho restaurant that also boasts a members club on the upper floors. But before that I am off to tea at The Drawing Room at Brown’s. Dilini’s tells me it’s one of her favorite places for tea.

I find myself once again in Hyde Park, this time seeing equestrians riding the dedicated paths as I cross from the city into the country.

On the far side of the park I pass the animals in war memorial. Fresh wreaths adorn the monument. Passing the fashion retailers on Bond Street I am reminded of New York, a cross between SoHo and Madison Avenue, albeit a cleaner and more polished one.

At the Brown’s I’m seated at a fantastic table. I’m offered a paper and told that I have only two and a half hours in which to enjoy the service. It’s ample time though I had hoped to linger over my book. Instead I’ll while away time at 180 House after my meal.

I accept a glass of champagne and realize that I’ve had champagne every day I’ve been in London. It’s a streak I intend to complete.

After I’ve eaten the sandwiches the waiter asks if I’d like another set. I would, though perhaps without the beef sandwich. After having polished the second round off I’m tempted to ask for a few more, but knowing that scones and pastries are next keeps me from doing so.

I’m almost able to finish everything until the waiter returns with the trolley cake. I had not accounted for this final slice of cake placed before me and give up. I have to ask for the cake to be boxed.

I’m the first to arrive at Side Car and ask for a booth. We’re seated in the back and Dilini’s friend arrives before her, finding me. She’s just come from seeing Evita at the London Palladium and is full of praise for Rachel Zegler and the production. We introduce ourselves and begin to learn about each other’s lives when she arrives. I’ve ordered a cocktail already, but Dilini and her friend quickly catch up. When we’re to leave I offer her friend the cake to bring to her son. She’s unable to join us for dinner.

After dinner we stop off at 40 Greek Street. Dilini’s never been and I’m still curious about the roof. Unfortunately, there’s another event up there and the house is packed. We find a quiet couch in a corner of the house and order nightcaps before wandering off to the Tube.

It’s the last day of my magical week in London and Dilini tells me she has surprises up her sleeve. We’re to meet for pre-drinks at a newish spot that’s opened up as part of Searcys Bar and Brasserie, but she won’t tell me what’s after that.

In the morning I decide to finally visit the British Museum. I had tried to squeeze it in earlier in the week but there hadn’t been enough time.

Without a ticket I join the queue at the rear of the building. It moves quickly and I soon find myself in the China section of the museum. My mom had asked if I were going to visit to see all the artefacts the English stole.

It’s not a great introduction to the museum, entering from the rear. It’s crowded and you miss the grand entrance.

I walk through the galleries to the front and emerge into the main atrium and it’s then that I feel the awe inspired by the building itself.

I walk into the library housed in the center column and come back out to find a map of the museum. With that in hand, I go off in search of the treasures of the museum. The Rostta Stone, the Assyrian Lion hunting reliefs, the Lewis chessmen.

The museum if overwhelming, partially due to the number of people who have filed in to see the same treasures I’m now searching for. After two hours my feet are tired and I’ve seen as much as I can abosrb for the day. I walk out the front of the building and circle back around to Store Street where I had passed a cute cafe on my way to the museum. I stop in for a flat white and find a seat on the sidewalk next to two women who chat about their professional lives.

The day grows cold and blustery and I’m afraid that it’s going to rain. Checking the map I see that the Dean Street Soho House is nearby and I walk the fifteen minutes or so to safety just as rain begins to fall.

By the time I have to start walking to meet Dilini the rain has stopped. I step back out onto the street and cross Waterloo Place, passing under the shadow of the Duke of York Monument as I head south.

I skirt the eastern edge of St. James’s Park and walk down Horse Guards Road, taking in the parade and buildings on my left as I pass. It’s an awesome sight and I wish I had the time to walk towards the building and through the arch to see what’s on the other side.

I’m reminded of my last trip to London, a day trip on a long layover. I remember walking this same stretch of road in the opposite direction on my way to the Dean Street Soho House. It’s funny how the memories come flooding back, and I remember taking the same photo of the street from the opposite direction, looking north instead of south.

At Searcys Bar & Brasserie at Westminster I’m a little confused where to go. Thankfully, Dilini is as well and we run into each other in the lobby of the restaurant. We’re directed down the street to the Royal Institution of Chartered Surveyors where our names are checked and we’re led inside to a set of elevators in the back. When we emerge we’re met again and taken to a patio just outside a corporate dining room.

Our tickets include a glass of champagne and stunning views of Big Ben and Westminster. I’m amazed at all the fantastic places she’s found for us; this spot caps off a week of incredible experiences. But there’s more.

We stay until the rooftop patio is about to close and are led back to the elevator. We find our own way out of the building. Dilini then has me follow her as we head to our next destination.

In the distance we hear a crowd, the sounds growing louder as we approach. It’s a pro-Palestinian demonstration and for a moment we join in the march as we head towards our next destination.

We head to the Old War Office Building, now a Raffles hotel. She tells an attendant we have a reservation and we’re directed to the bowels of the building, losing ourselves before we find a door marked with the number 007. We’ve reached the Spy Bar.

Stickers are placed over the cameras on our phones and we’re allowed inside. An Aston Martin hangs above the dimly lit bar. We’re seated in a banquet in a room at the back but ask to sit at a smaller table in the main bar for the views. Dilini’s friend shows up shortly and we sit closely next to each other. I order a Vesper and it’s one of the most delicious martinis I’ve ever had.

For dinner Dilini has booked a table at Rules, one of the oldest restaurants in London. Continuing the James Bond theme, a scene in Spectre had been filmed there. The waiter helpfully points out the table along the back wall featured in the scene. It’s a beautiful, dark restaurant and it instantly feels like fall inside and I order the duck.

It’s the perfect send-off after a perfect week and I am loathe to leave.

The next day I take the train to the airport from Paddington Station. I’ve actually not been inside the station proper in the time I’ve been in London and I take a quick photo as I’m passing through. On the flight Paddington in Peru is one of the films on offer. I press play and soon see the station I have just left behind and the city that now holds me in its grasp. I’ll be counting the days until I return. 🇬🇧