Tourist without a Bookbag; The duo bubble up

10am and I'm still in bed. No doubt, the latest I've been up for a good few months. No more sleep indulgence now until Santa rolls up on the 25th though. Time to roll out and get the daily exercise in early. Saturday was destined to be a busy one. By 12 o'clock Rick and I are ready to shake. Out the door, with gratitude for the Vachhani siblings untouchable hospitality, we met with blazing sunshine. Not so much heat, but short sleeve's was enough (in my opinion at least). What a blessing in mid-December. 

First stop for us; Westfields, Stratford, as it was for many others (oh so many others..). Thousands of Christmas shoppers, decked out in warm coats and various winter accessories. Many shooting looks of disbelief, at what I assumed was my bare arms, as we flowed with the crowds from the tube to the entrance. No worries were given though. 

As we walked the length, hitting up various shops you just don't find in Peterborough, those same people would surely question.. Why did we come to a jam packed shopping centre in a heavy coat, hat, scalf and gloves? Why indeed! I'd like to think that sometimes it takes a genius to do the opposite of everybody else. It was this same reasoning which made me the only individual in Peterborough town centre to rock a pair of shorts. 

As we walked on, I began to contemplate how I might fit my expanding head out the same door we had entered through. Soon though, like all boys, our thoughts of shopping ceased. For food and drink was required. The choice of each was simple. A trip to the Colonel accompanied by some Bubble Tea.

Now to the London kids who may read this blog post by a humble P-town boy, you may question the reasoning behind a photo of my bubble tea. This though, is an unknown capacity to those from The P. Myself having had it just once before, I still find it to be an exciting and childish experience. Trying to catch all the bubbles long after having drank up all the juice (lychee with passion fruit bubbles on this occasion). The closest me and the brothers had gotten previous, was chucking grapes into our Robinson's Blackcurrant. 

Still catching bubbles, we made our way back towards the tube. Out looking for interesting Christmas gifts, Covent Garden seemed like the logical destination. And after 200 steps back up to ground level we felt more at rest with our stuffing down of KFC chicken. 

With the sun slowly going down in a cloudless sky, we really couldn't have picked a better day. Crowds of people filling the streets we headed to the main buzz. Now, to me, Ben's is Uncle B's rice. But to Rick, Ben's means cookies. More treats held sacred by the Londoners. These would be saved and taken back home. A delicious souvenir for the family from my weekend. 

Having taken in the beautiful we headed for the interesting. Neals Yard. Admiring the artwork of Slam City Skates, I failed at fighting the urge to pose for a shot (nice work Rick!). Taking in the sights, I also failed to notice Rick picking out a snapback as a Christmas present to myself! Cheeky git. 

Going from neighbours on the first day of university, we now find ourselves brothers from different mothers. Everybody should have a homie like Ricky. A pro at life. This kid casually stoles up to the hurdles of reality and soars over them with the spring and poise of a gazelle. He's the dude you watch and study so you can go and handle the same hurdles he just bossed.

Thoroughly shattered by this point, but with both a brain and camera full of memories, I returned home to deliver happiness supplied by the other Ben.