4th-wet wet wet
we do our best to find portobello rd by first arriving at notting hill, but inexpertly wind away from our destination, ending up at Kensington park. Flocks of unhinged many specied birds gather to molest the unwary bread wielder, and then, in the center of the rather spacious common, it suddenly turns torrential. We are soaked by the time we make it back to the street, just in time for the downpour to inexplicably cease. The taunts of the geese weigh heavily on me, and I decide there must be a shoot of christiane chasing them with a rather large butterfly net.
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