A mini-break to Greenwich

It's been a lovely weekend - a perfect see-saw of activities and outings and frocks at one end and fuck all at the other.

This weekend Lovely Boy and I had a mini-break to Greenwich.

We’d been invited to the wedding of a friend on the Friday evening and so took the opportunity to stay a night. We figured, so much better than running in our my best favourite heels for the last tube and schlepping an hour home.

The Mitre, Greenwich

And so we stayed. In a room above a very cute pub called The Mitre, a grade II listed former coaching inn that first opened in the 1700s. It’s had a few facelifts in that time – world war two bombing will do that to a building – but it was delightful. And super convenient, so all in all, a win.

Not the most romantic weather for a wedding.

The wedding was lovely. We were invited for the drinking and dancing part of the evening and had a great time admiring the wet, rainy views out over the Thames from Greenwich towards the O2 while chatting and laughing and eating great swathes of cheese. And then it was back to the hotel and to bed. 

The view from the Trafalgar Tavern towards the O2

Seriously, this is the only way to do things. Lovely Boy thought I was (and looked) a little ridiculous striding to and from the venue in my party frock and converse but no shoes were going to be hurt in the making of this evening. Especially expensive purple suede lace up heels that may or may not have been purchased in a fizzy haze of post-lunch-with-naughty-cocktails shopping. If I have to stride through puddles on my way to a wedding it’s going to be in my valiant converse. And really, two pairs of shoes in one evening is the reason large handbags were invented. But I digress.

The GREENwich meridian time line illuminated.

Saturday – Greenwich. We’d been to Greenwich once before, for lunch at the Trafalgar Tavern, ironically the same venue as the wedding as it turned out. Anyway, we’d loved wandering about and exploring the Greenwich market in search of treasure and food. And in an act of full disclosure, it was the distant memory of the cinnamon-infused churros pumped full of hot chocolate sauce that had really sold us on our mini-break idea.

That and a visit to the Cutty Sark. This famous ship, the world’s last surviving tea clipper, was officially re-opened by the Queen earlier this year after years of extensive restoration and it was incredible to wander through it and under it and over it’s deck and to just reflect on its history.  On the lower deck they had a number of interactive screens and activities you could do – including trying to steer a ship from Sydney to London using the trade winds. I got shipwrecked in New Zealand…

I also learned that a cutty sark is an 18^th century Scottish nightie. I enjoyed learning that almost as much as I enjoyed the display of historic figureheads from the Long John Silver Collection. And no I’m not joking.

And then, well it was churros and then it was home.  We would have stayed longer if I had managed to talk Lovely Boy into having a psychic palm reading for £5 but strangely he wasn’t interested.

I like Greenwich, it’s charming without being cute, far enough out of central London to effect a different atmosphere but close enough to get you home relatively promptly (TfL being what it is…)

We may well be back there again some time. But for now, I’m enjoying my spectacularly uneventful Sunday. A zone 2 mini-break chased by a day at home on the sofa - perfect.