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Here I sit, in London’s business district, flanked on one side by the monumental St Paul’s Cathedral and on the other by London’s star-bright West End. Some might say they envy where I am right now, I mean it’s even sunny in ol’ Londontown today, but all I wish for right this moment is to be back in Santorini. Even in London’s sunshine, it just doesn’t compare. I mean, there are no donkeys in London! 
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I was 12 years old, in Year 7 at Craigslea Primary School on Brisbane’s north side. I hadn’t really come into my own yet and was a painfully shy, timid, quiet (I know it seems impossible, but I once was very shy, very timid and remarkably quiet. Lord knows what happened) and ridiculously nerdy girl (this bit hasn’t changed).
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It happened again. This time last year, I remember waking up, frothing at the mouth excited like someone was giving me a puppy wrapped in a ticket to Vegas on Christmas morning. But it wasn’t Christmas and there was no puppy. A ticket to Vegas did come eventually, but that’s not the story. The story goes that this time last year, I was so eager to get to Taste of London that I made Panu run to the event. For realz.
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Saturday was always going to be a good. For starters, I woke up and ate Goober Grape squished between two slices of soft white bread for breakfast. What’s Goober Grape you ask? Well, click on the link you lazy punk ass. Or wait. Because I am planning on a whole video post, yes a video post, just for my beloved Goobz. After breakfast, I went for a haircut with my one and only (well, my one and only hairdresser anyway) who gave me the best shiatsu massage ever. As if that wasn’t already a great start to the day Panu and I then headed to South Kensington for a spot of lunch at Jak’s Cafe and right there in Jak’s Cafe, my life changed forever. I spoke to a Prince.
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Chinese fine dining, hey? We at thecattylife are not unfamiliar with this topic. We’ve been to Kai Mayfair and well, yes, we’ve been to Kai Mayfair. We are not unfamiliar with the topic but we are still much confused. Although we were bedazzled by Kai Mayfair’s superb service and quality food, we are still concerned about having to spend more than say £20 a head for Chinese (and that is already a lot). We don’t understand where our moneyz is going and still think that Chinese food is really just that. Chinese food. We are especially confused by that restaurant in Chinatown, Plum Valley, who calls themselves “Chinese fine dining” but they don’t even have a website. What the heck fine dining restaurant doesn’t have a website? And yes, we’re doing this post in third person. And plural.
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