Yesterday I spent the day walking through Notting Hill and down Portobello Road, enjoying the market that I have embarrassingly never visited before.
Heaving with people and stalls, Portobello Road made me happy to be alive and showed me yet again why I love London.
I took a pause from photographing to listen to this busker, a singer-songwriter called Robbie Boyd who warmed the cold winter's day and put a smile on my face. Click the photo to listen to my favourite: a song all about London whose lyrics make me feel proud and lucky to be part of this city. Robbie Boyd, I salute you.
Walking down the street this shop caught my eye, partly for its scarlet facade but mainly for it's name: the same as my best friend.
From rusty candlesticks and mothball scented fur coats to jewellery and vintage china, Portobello Road is home to gems, some genuine...
... and some not so. Perhaps it goes without saying, but I managed to leave Portobello Road WITHOUT a 'Wills and Kate' china bell.
Walking through Notting Hill I fell in love with town houses painted like dolly mixtures and pictured myself preparing lunch in the sleek basement kitchens or sitting on a honey coloured sofa by the window watching the world go by. What's the harm in dreaming after all?