A brief break in the otherwise grey weather through the week left me no choice but to get out in to the open. My friend Ram of Sita fame suggested that we visit Hammersmith only to change his mind almost immediately to Richmond Waterfront.
After two buses and a brush with a tentative Oyster card we were at the Waterfront – a bit nippy but thoroughly enjoyable place to be in. Runners aspiring to perform well in the upcoming London Marathon were busy practicing their trade while families with a common obsession of improving the government health bill were also doing their bit by running in the morning sun.
While the gulls lined themselves on the tarpaulin covered boats, the pigeons were strongly protecting their turf on the banks for any tidbit that came out of a bird lover walking by. A police car passed by slowly, on the lookout for some unlawful act or perhaps following up on some tip illegal fishing.
Strollers walked by to catch some sunshine. Some were intent on doing the constitutional by walking those 2000 steps recommended by their doctor. There were some who were meeting their daily dose of walking more dictated by their dog rather than their doctor. The dogs were removed from their leash and left free to run around. They had a field day trying chasing the pigeons.
For nearly an hour we walked on the banks. All the while, Ram peppered the walk with stories on the row with a kayak shop owner Down Under and an argument with a boat owner on the direction of the tide. I decided to turn the tables on his tale of the tides.
I steered him to Tide Tables, a neat coffee shop with many tables in the open. Surprisingly there were samosas on the menu. After savouring a hot cup of coffee and the samosas incidentally disguised as a croissant, and interrupted by some inquisitive pigeons (or were they doves?) asking for a share of the eats on the table.
With some food down the hatch we went for some more walk before we realised that the little sunshine was obliterated by the clouds and it getting colder. Just as we left I was pointed out this interestingly named Indian restaurant. I think the owner was somewhat a James Bond fan and being impressed with the movie Golden Eye wanted to name his restaurant the same. Perhaps he was advised against that by a pessimistic lawyer friend and he decided to call it Tangawizi, a corruption of Golden Eye in Tamil.
Looking at Tangawizi we realised that it was time for lunch and for two people who have been brought up on South Indian cuisine what better place than Sangeetha’s. By the way, I was joking about Tangawizi. It actually serves a North Indian cuisine and the name means ginger in Swahili.
Two more buses and a stopover for an elusive t-shirt at M&S left us outside Sangeetha’s.