Stardate: 21 April - An Afternoon on the Green...

.... but first, The Washing of the Smalls!

After a leisurely breakfast on this fine Easter Sunday, we repaired to the Tavistock Square Suds-O-Rama for a spot of laundering. 

Here are our BVDs and other delicates getting a hammering in the industrial-strength Hoovermatics.   

We chose to forego the dryers as our apartment is so over-heated we knew our items would dry in no time draped around the furniture.  As indeed they did.




Washing done, Geoff suggested an afternoon constitutional at Hampstead Heath for the day's outing and I pictured a bucolic ramble among bluebells and cowslips along clearly defined and sign-posted pathways with handy 'toilets this way' notices at regular intervals.  There was none of that but it was lovely in its own way. 

Hampstead Heath is certainly very leafy and quite pretty in some parts.  It seems to be deliberately cultivated as a wilderness (if that's not a contradiction in terms) so is a bit scraggly and unkempt.  I'm not complaining but I do think Australia does scraggly and unkempt better.  And also 'toilets this way' signage.

We did eventually find toilets, about 300 kilometres into our trek.  There was a big travelling carny at one end of the Heath and we wandered past the Ghost Train and Vommo-tron pretending we were keen patrons, eventually finding their not-too-bad dunny facilities in the back of the carny carpark.  Geoffy was keen for a Pluto Pup and some fairy floss but resisted the urge.

Birdlife in the heath was not abundant today, unless it favours the inner reaches that we did not traverse, but we did see a couple of English magpies and some robins.

An English robin.  (pic pinched from internet)

And here we have an Australian Pink Robin (also from internet).  Of course, Australia also has Flame Robins, Red-capped Robins, Rose Robins, Scarlet Robins, Eastern Yellow Robins. 

We have the best robins.  Just sayin'!

About to hand over to Mr (Clean) Pants but before doing so will skite that we're watching a 2019 episode of Pointless.  Nah nah nah nah nah!   :-)

***

Bit harsh about the poor old English robins I think, Hortense.  They try their best, but there's just not enough sunlight to enable them to compete with their Australian cousins when it comes to brilliant plumage.

Yes, Hampstead Heath is deliberately unkempt.  I reckon that's why it's called a Heath and not a Park, unlike say Hyde Park or Regents Park, that are cultivated to within an inch of their lives.

It's pretty impressive to find such an oasis in the middle of a hugely urbanised city like London.

And lest it be thought we had it to ourselves...

Yet again, the weather was extraordinary, and the locals didn't miss the opportunity to soak up the balmy 23 degrees.

Fortunately for us, they also brought their dogs out with them - always a joy to behold.  I lost count after 27 spaniels, 14 Labradors and about 96 miscellaneous small white or caramel fluffy varieties.  All having a ball.

A nice outing, but the non-stop tramping over hill and dale did tend to sap one's energy after a while.  We did take the opportunity to rest the weary bones wherever a suitable seat presented itself, but on the way home we came upon another likely venue.

Upon return to Euston station, we found the Euston Tap Room, serving an agreeable variety of craft beers.  This one was a Pig & Porter session IPA, and very pleasantly it went down too.

All in all, a nice outing, and we can now hold up our end of the conversation next time it turns to Hampstead Heath, which it's bound to soon enough.