Here in London Town. Butter Butter Baby

 

The morning began with breakfast at Caravan, conveniently located across the river — because calories consumed after a scenic walk count less. The area had that effortlessly cool industrial vibe: old brick, steel, warehouses pretending not to be trendy while being trendy.
Breakfast? Excellent. Like, consider-ordering-everything-on-the-menu excellent.

As an early birthday surprise (or just exceptional hospitality), I was presented with cake complete with a candle. After I had eaten my way through half the menu.

Speaking of surprises: I forgot to mention yesterday that I received a lime body scrub from Lush for the occasion. Naturally, we also bought bubble bath because our hotel room had a bathtub and apparently I’ve entered the stage of life where soaking in hot water for 30 minutes feels like peak luxury. I spent half an hour floating there yesterday, enjoying my lemony bubble bath.

After breakfast, we wandered through Covent Garden, then headed towards Big Ben, with ambitious plans to continue to the Sky Garden. London Underground, however, had different plans for us — proving once again that no itinerary survives public transport.
So instead of panoramic skyline views, we simply walked. More walking. Endless walking. At some point, we found ourselves watching a cute squirrel, which in London somehow feels like an official tourist activity.

After lunch, we explored Leadenhall Market, before continuing to Barbican — an architectural masterpiece depending on who you ask, or a giant concrete Soviet fever dream depending on your mood.
Honestly? It’s ugly. But also weirdly fascinating. The kind of ugly that circles back into cool.

Dinner on the other hand came with drama.
We had plans to eat at Swiss Butter, so we walked there. Upon arrival: a queue of approximately 50–60 people outside.
Not a simple quick queue.
A banana queue. Like something out of Soviet times where rumours spread that oranges had arrived somewhere and everyone immediately abandoned their plans.
After about 45 minutes of waiting, we finally got a table.

And honestly? Worth. Every. Single. Minute. The menu was wonderfully short and uncomplicated: choose your protein and then surrender to the glorious fact that everything comes drowned in their famous Swiss buttery sauce. Simple. Dangerous. Incredible.

We finished the evening chasing sunset views because apparently exhaustion isn’t a real concept while travelling. The internet declared Primrose Hill the best place to see London at sunset, so naturally we rushed there.

We admired the view, both agreed that yes, this was lovely, and then promptly went back to the hotel to collapse into bed like two people who had accidentally walked half of England in a single day.

Here in London Town. Mind the Gap and pass on the Snacks

 

 

The alarm went off at a completely unreasonable hour because our flight was at 5:35 AM. You know it’s early when the timed terrace lights from last night are still on. The flights? Entirely uneventful. A suspiciously smooth start.

 By 8 AM London time, we had landed and by 9:30, we managed to snag the last available table at brunch downtown London already. A few eggs and some dangerously good ricotta hotcakes later, we felt vaguely human again and headed toward the hotel.

 Since check-in wasn’t ready yet (actually it was, but for 50 GBP) we did what every traveler does: changed clothes in record time and abandoned our luggage in storage, hoping we’d eventually reunite with it.

The original grand plan was to head to Camden for food, but brunch had defeated us. Full stomachs won the argument, so instead we wandered along the Thames, eventually making our way to Tower Bridge.

And finally, after countless trips to London, we walked across the famous glass floor, which is either thrilling or mildly terrifying depending on how much you trust engineering. The views, however, were worth every second of pretending not to look down too much.

On our way back to the hotel, we accidentally stumbled upon The Garden at 120 and decided to head up. Unexpected city views? Always a good idea in London.

Finally, back at the hotel, we got access to our room… only to discover it had a lovely view directly into the atrium. Romantic, if your dream holiday includes staring at indoor architecture and other rooms just a few meters away.

Thankfully, Scott came to the rescue, made a call, and suddenly we were moved to a room with an actual outdoor view.

The housekeeping team also kindly left us an unexpected bonus: a collection of forgotten dress shirts from the previous guest hanging neatly in the wardrobe. A thoughtful touch. Or a mystery. We chose not to ask questions.

For dinner, we finally made it to Camden Lock Market, specifically the delicious food street, where all self-control disappears.

We ordered a fried plantain sandwich and brisket loaded fries, and honestly? Absolute perfection.
But then came trouble.
Because Camden also has MyCookieDough.
So naturally, about ten minutes later, we found ourselves standing there holding a plate of freshly baked hot cookies drowning in Nutella and topped with ice cream. Zero regrets. Our scale at home does not know yet.

By 9 PM, we were asleep — because after a day that started before sunrise, even London couldn’t compete with the overwhelming desire to collapse into bed.

Here in London Town. A food adventure – with a side of migraine

 

Anyone who knows me knows that my travels revolve around food. No distance is too far for a delicious bite. So imagine my surprise when we landed in London, and I didn’t have dinner mapped out for the first night.
 

With no reservations, no plan, and a growling stomach, we wandered through Notting Hill, eventually stepping into one of those classic British pubs named after a prince. The menu wasn’t exactly thrilling, but we made do with an avocado salad (which, as it turned out, was made of frozen avocados, what an undelicious disappointment) and a sirloin steak sandwich, where the ratio was about 80% sandwich and 20% steak. After the lame dinner, we walked through Kensington and made it back to our hotel by 10 p.m., fast asleep by 11.
 

On Friday I woke up at 5 a.m. with a migraine that could have taken down a small army. Two painkillers later, it was still going strong when we got up at 8. Spoiler alert: this migraine stayed with me until early afternoon.
 

But a headache wasn’t about to stop my food tour. We kicked things off with brunch at Duck & Waffle, consumed on the 40th floor with breathtaking views over London. I ordered the overnight oats brûlée—except there were no oats. Instead, I got a chia pudding with a caramelized sugar top, and honestly, no complaints.
 

Next stop: Tower Bridge, one of my all-time favorite bridges (yes, I seem to have a list of favorite bridges). After some sightseeing, it was time for a snack, and we headed to Borough Market for some crème brûlée doughnuts. One crème brûlée, one raspberry—both absolutely divine. A small blessing that our hotel wasn’t right next to this market, or I’d have bought a dozen more later.
 

London Eye was next on the list, but after seeing the ticket price (a €50 per person), we decided our money could be far better spent on food. Instead, we admired Big Ben through the classic London fog before walking through Trafalgar Square and ending up at a noodle shop where they hand-make each portion to order. The noodles? Incredible. The beef? Let’s just say it wasn’t the highlight.
 

On the way back to the hotel, we made a few more stops: Scott grabbed a hazelnut cookie, and I treated myself to a slice of Basque cheesecake. Both were absolutely worth it.