I walked around the shopping mall and through the high street earlier today. The constant drizzle sprinkling my face would have soaked me to the bone, save for my leather jacket's superb impermeability. The light wispy rain felt surprisingly warm against my cold lips. It had an earthy taste and it smelled like London's streets.
Strange how some of us feel the rain while others just get wet.
I went into a cafe whose entrance was partially blocked by a giant sandwich-board advertising "Full English Breakfast £4.95" and ordered a tea. It tasted different to the tea I drank in Madeira. It was probably made with the same brand, the ever popular Tetley, but it tasted different. Could be the water, or maybe the milk, I mistakenly thought. Anyway, it tasted of England.
Strange how some of us savour our tea while others merely slurp it.
An hour later I walked into the "Lisboa Cafe", a Portuguese establishment that proudly displays a large lit sign of Delta Cafe (yummy) above the entrance. I ordered a coffee 'meia de leite' and, needless to say, it tasted of Madeira! How is that possible? It couldn't be the water or even the milk! Another one of life's mysteries I am trying to unravel.
Strange how some of us relish our coffee while others merely sip it.
I felt a range of emotions while walking around reminiscing, from pleasure at seeing the old favourite shops and restaurants through to sadness at not recognising a single soul. In cosy little Funchal that never happened. Wherever I went there were always familiar faces. But Funchal has one hundredth of the population of London. For a brief moment, I wished I were still there...
Strange how some of us feel lonely while others just feel alone.