Having returned to my place of work for further training, it wasn’t until I arrived that I realised I had set off far too early. I could, in fact, have had another hour in bed. Those that know me, know how precious sleep is to me, and will therefore understand how unimpressed I was at the situation. As such, I felt the need to treat myself, and made a beeline for a café across the road I’ve been eyeing for some time now: Café Latino, Mi Cocina Es Tuya.
It’s small, sweet, clean and decorated with (I presume) Venezuelan or at least Spanish bits and pieces. It’s clearly family run, and as soon as I entered I was shown my seat and handed a menu as well as a taster of their passion fruit smoothie. 2 minutes later the chap was back, and I ordered a ‘Latino breakfast’ (chorizo, fried eggs, cornbread and beans) and a mango juice. He was very friendly and handed me that day’s newspaper to peruse at my leisure – and who doesn’t love a good leisurely perusing.
You could see part of the kitchen, and smell the order being cooked. My drink arrived first, followed by the food – the cornbread had a smily face on it, my breakfast was almost as happy to see me as I was to see it! The chorizo was home made and delicious, the eggs weren’t overdone (a surprisingly regular occurrence when buying breakfast) and I was offered salsa verde and chilli as accompaniment. The beans reminded me of Costa Rica, where rice and beans were present at every meal (literally. Every meal.)
When I was finished, I still had 2 hours to kill before going to work, however I never felt rushed. When I asked for a glass of water I was brought it with a smile, and when they found out I could speak (some) Spanish I was offered a Spanish newspaper to read and told I should come in more often to practise.
After a while, temptation did overcome me and I ordered the churros. It was a bit of a feast and I loved every minute of it.
The prices were not dirt cheap, but they were not unreasonable and I didn’t feel ripped off. For everything I paid £14.
So yes, I would recommend this place. I don’t know if the cuisine is Venezuelan itself, but it was delicious and the people who run the cafe are friendly and accommodating (and patient should you want to practise your Spanish!) Muy bien – see, I’m practically fluent already.
I like to think generally these posts are pretty light hearted, and I apologise for the lack of ramblings or photos in the past couple of days – I’ve barely left the bed, being very lazy and very relaxed.
But today I was stirred from my stupor not by some fabulous day trip (fabulous, hmm, I’ll be wearing pink spandex and telling people to call me Darrius next) or some amazing new London find, but by a bit of news.
I know, the news. International news too, I do find myself reading actual newspapers from time to time. Poking my head above the turret of my little castle and whatnot. But I kind of wish I hadn’t.
I heard about someone called Lindsay Sandiford, who has just been sentenced to death in Bali for attempting to smuggle cocaine onto the island. She claimed her family was being threatened, which does have evidence to support it, and had suffered from mental illness previously – but these weren’t classed as mitigating factors.
Now I am not, by any means, saying that her actions are condonable, or that she shouldn’t be punished. But not even her prosecuting lawyers recommended such a harsh sentence. There’s been an outcry from charities and the UK government is reportedly objecting strongly. I just hope something is done.
There are appeal options open of course, but I was curious as to what other people thought of this story. I’m just saddened by her whole ordeal. Like I said, it’s not that I don’t think that she should be punished in some form…but surely not by death?
Although, I’m more or less against capital punishment on the whole any way. Possibly in the most heinous crimes, it’s a difficult subject – obviously…but yeah. What does anyone else think?