Portholes

The sun has disappeared. In its place an impossibly thick wool blanket of grey lays just out of arms reach. We spent the late morning walking around the shoreditch area of London. Upon exhausting the areas offerings we set out to a new location via a few shoreditch back streets. It was on these streets that we stumbled upon what Lina proclaimed to be the best thing she had seen yet. Hidden in plain sight down a semi steep set of stairs below a small shop was an even smaller quaint kitchen. This miniature cafe seemed to be frozen it time and it wasn't hard to imagine an elderly English woman warming up tea and biscuits while baking Lemmon drizzel cake and tarts and bottling homemade jam. We soaked up the ambience while Lina sipped on a mint tea and daydreamed about the English countryside. After finishing up and ascended the stairs back into shoreditch and it's hustle and bustle we half expected the inter dimensional portal we just traveled through to swirl around and close up forever with an electrified crackle closing off the quaint English countryside for good. No electricity no snap or crackle just a door in a row of doors on a row of buildings, maybe all these doors hold some kind of mysteries.Read more