Previously, to my horror, I discovered that overenthusiatic tippexing had blotted out Stamford Brook in error.

Returning to South Ken with the lovely 

artnouveauho after a slap up feed at the Walpole in Ealing with velvetdahlia

 

 we corrected the oversight. As we disembarked we noticed a jolly sign:

Seemed as good an instruction as any, so hand in hand, and skipping along the paltform as much as one can when dragging relectant luggage, we did indeed 'whistle a happy tune'.  L knew the words, I just made a loud noise...

It's my birthday in March (that makes me a sensitive little fish, for them that cares) and my birthday treat was Afternoon Tea at the Ritz on Tuesday evening.  

A full review of the event will go up on tea_and_crumpet later but suffice to say the surroundings are opulent in the gilded cherubim and roccoco moulding trope. The ladies powder room is bigger than my entire flat and decorated with floor to ceiling Rousseu style mural of jungles and waterfalls, everything is softly lit, painted pink or made of marble in the most decadent, overstuffed and knowingly excessively luxurious style.  Well-upholstered waiters in brass buttoned tail coats ply you with champagne, and tempt you to over-eat by laying before you a cake stand laden with a splendid amount of finger sandwiches, the daintiest cakes, fresh warm scones and jam.  And of course there's lashings of hot tea in silver pots.  I don't care how much of a cliche taking tea at the Ritz might be, I absolutely loved it. 

We spent a relaxing evening lounging, gossiping and eating. Lots and lots of eating. The smallness of the courses is deceptive; each morsel might be a tiny, perfectly crafted mouthful, but when just don't stop taking these little mouthfuls for the best part of two hours it adds up to a lot of food.  Wash that down with about nine or ten cups of tea, each with two sugars in, and that's a hefty calorie count.  

By nine in the evening I was as sugared-up as a eight year old kid after a supersize coke from McD's.  It would not be inaccurate to say that I was a tad on the manic side.  We needed an activity to burn off all this energy.  As it as a little late in the evening for base jumping from Canary Wharf or storming the HMS Belfast  - plus, I was in heels; patent leather thigh boots not the most sensible of footwear for hostile takeovers unless you are an actual super villian - we settled on completing the Victoria Line.  Only four stops remained - Seven Sisters, Tottenham Hale, Blackhorse Road and Walthamstow Central.  Most conveniently, Green Park tube station was just across from the hotel. Pausing only to dust cake crumbs from our lips and steal the menu, we ventured back out into the bitter cold and on up the Victoria to Walthamstow Central.

 Meanwhile, all the platform motifs for the Victoria get me thinking - their clean lines would adapt really well to quilting panels, and with only 16 stations on the line that would suit a 4x4 block configuration.  It's still early enough in the evening, and I'm still charging about on a sugar buzz that I want to make sure I have examples from every one of the other stations on the Line.  Some of the stations on I've visited already but not necessarily by using the Victoria as the Line was designed to have the most interchanges possible.  Oh the obession beats loudly in my ears...

G rolls his eyes...we hop aboard the next train south in order to revist the whole of the Victoria Line down to Brixton just to photograph the platform tiling that I'm missing. I'm as bouncy as a six year old on too much ice cream.  Oh the excitement - what will the motif for Finsbury Park be after the Piccadilly Line there had such exciting balloon mosaics? I can't remember, despite having been there only a few short months be.  It's as exciting as an advent calender before they came with chocolate in them. 

I shall have to be patient though, as we rumble our way towards Finsbury Park, alone in the carriage, as the journey between Seven Sisters and Finsbury is the longest stretch of deep level tunnel in the network...