Lunch with Harry Trotter

I  woke at 6.30 to the sound of coo-coo, coo-coo, slight pause, coo-coo, coo-coo. Along with the hum of traffic and motorbikes interrupting the morning quiet, that coo-coo, coo-coo went on and on, an annoying sort of background white noise, unlike the morning song and twittering of the other birds. I think it was a pigeon, I remember Bert making that sound on Sesame Street when extolling the virtues of such bird. It wasn't so virtuous this morning, hope he finds somewhere else to wake up tomorrow.

Headed out for lunch, making our way through nightmare traffic to arrive at The Grounds in Alexandria, sounding like somewhere Hercule Poirot would go on one of his treks to the Middle East, and what I found was an amazing space placed bang in the middle of an industrial estate, a microcosm amidst the concrete jungle. Greenery abounded, cafes and markets draped with hanging gardens as good as anything you'd see on the Continent I reckon, plus chooks and Harry Trotter the pig thrown into the mix in their enclosures to amuse the patrons.







Enter another world
feast in the gardens of
Alexandria