Monday, 5 November 2012

St Martin's Lane

Oxford customs can be astoundingly prehistoric on occasion (particularly if you happen to attend St Edmund Hall...), so having had to travel several hundred miles at great expense just to collect a new library card that absolutely could not have been sent by a secure courier, I thought it made sense to spend the night in London before my trip back up to Scotland.  There was no way I was staying in Oxford a minute longer than necessary when all my friends were less than an hour away.  What better reason could there be for a repeat sojourn at probably my favourite hotel in the city, St Martin's Lane?  The perfect base for grabbing dinner at Mele e Pere with Hugh (do try the maltagliati), drinks in Covent Garden with Joseph and all manner of shenanigans with Charlie, Lexxi, et al. (begun with toffee champagne in the hotel's Light Bar).  It's always cosy, comfortable and lethally chic.  Even the breakfast-in-bed pancakes are precise in their circular deliciousness.  

Wearing shirt by Club Monaco, sweatshirt by Acne, jewellery by Eddie Borgo, Erickson Beamon and Edun.  

I'm back in Scotland now and raring to get back to work, refreshed from my first weekend off in weeks.  Of course, this is the morning my work laptop decides to give up the ghost...


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