Just back from having a posh afternoon tea at a five star hotel, and though there's a lot I want to write about it, there's just one thing I want to show for now. The chocolate eclair.
No, I didn't scrape the chocolate icing off the top. No, I didn't lick it. Yes, that was how it was presented to me - a smear of chocolate giving the impression not of a lipsmacking dessert, but rather of those ominous streaks you get on toilet cubicles in train stations and House of Fraser Oxford Street.
Still ate it though. Kinda wish I hadn't.
To be named and shamed tomorrow.
Ps: Whatever I may have said yesterday, it's not the Langham.
Pps: yes, nails are looking nice, thanks. They're the work of Sara at the delightfully named Hand Job spa in San Francisco. Since you ask.
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