So the move to Herne Hill went well. It's a bit of a joke really to call our 'hood "Herne Hill" - yes, it has the lovely yummy mummy connotaions one would like associated with their property however, it really is Brixton.
And another world that is.
Brixton.
Try it out on a Saturday morning and you will know what I mean. It has the most electric atmosphere pumping through the crowded market streets. Loud music from the stalls competes for your attention...ladies having their hair braided, kids running around eating jerk patties - bright yellow, acrylic nails, dead meat, ganga, rasta, big tunes, do you know the lord?, jerk chicken, laughter, tears, double bass grinding through the back of that gold, blinging beemer. I LOVE IT. I love the edge.
But then again, I also love that I can walk a little further and I am in the peace and tranquility of the lovely Herne Hill.
Both GForce and I are finding our own spot of space a lot more luxurious than we'd ever imagined. It is insane.
We have 4 rooms between us and a garden - okay, okay, not 4 BEDrooms...but actual rooms that have walls that can separate us. It's insane. 4 rooms for the 2 of us? After 10 years of house-sharing this deluxe supremo.
happy days...