There is a bar called the Dove which sits smugly between Cambridge Heath train station and Kingsland road. It dispenses Belgian beers rarely seen in the English capital. On draught!
The beers are, by repute, made by taciturn monks in silent abbeys deep in the forested dales of Flanders. Each beer has its own specially shaped glass. The barmaid washed the glass on a nifty counter top glass washing machine. The beer was poured in but froth was a majority component and it had to be refilled several times to meet the half pint measure.
Afterwards, we staggered along a canal bank path past smashed up cars (the detritus of joyriding youth) beneath a dirt dark north london sky. The no.149, a standard issue London doubledecker carried up home.
The quest of the following day was "Discover the hair of the Ring". That meant long black hair to expose only frightul eyes. My gf needed it for her doll. The packed markets of Camden Town were searched but a cheap wig was not to be found
Defeated, we went to the National Gallery near Trafalgar Square and what a feast! Van Gogh sunflowers grew taller in my eyes. Cezanne's articulate use of color and Saurat's dotty dexterity invigorated us. The mythological grandeur of the Renaissance artists, gorier than the Texas Chainsaw Massacre, expressed fear, wonder and beauty with mastery.
Having soaked up artistry we enjoyed Japanese cuisine at a restaurant called Ikkyu in Chinatown. We enjoyed salmon ramen, salmon sushi and gyoka ramen (pork dumplings). All washed down with Kirin beer.
Afterwards we had cheap cocktails at the Oxygen bar on Leicester square (I had a flatliner with far too much tobasco sauce). Back in Wood Green (North London) we had a final drink in Wetherspoons. This place is a pub in the modern style. It serves Tikka Massala as well as toad in the hole. It beers are suprisingly cheap.
This was one drink too many for me and the toilet was a popular destination during the wee hours.