It feels weird going back to work as a peasant when yesterday I ate like a king. For those who haven’t seen our constant reminders of that via various outputs Kate and I went for afternoon tea at The Ritz. It was amazing.
I appreciate that there is a level of decadence to it but the fact is that there were people there who obviously took the whole experience for granted, as though they were just sat down the local ‘caff’. It was a real treat for us, and one that I won’t forget any time soon.
The building and the decor are worth the visit alone, the whole place is quite incredible to behold, and I constantly felt at threat of being discovered and turfed out like Chaplin’s Tramp. The staff were so courteous and helpful though so this notion was entirely of my own making.
We were seated and offered tea from a menu. A fucking tea menu. I didn’t know it came any way than in a bag (that is mostly a joke). Kate had the Ritz special blend and I had the Darjeeling (yes, because of it’s association with Wes). We were brought a cake stand with some of the best sandwiches and cakes I’ve ever seen on it.
We were then offered more cake from a selection on a tea tray. I think Kate was sure she had died and gone to heaven. Every now and then as we were talking the waiter would come round and check if we were okay and check if we needed more tea, but it didn’t feel intrusive or annoying, it seemed like a genuine regard for customers.
It was really nice to be treated that well, to be waited upon, but I don’t think I could ever get use to it, I’m not the waited upon type. It was like stepping back in time which we are obviously both a fan of and I would recommend it to anyone who wanted to do something special for a celebration.
After tea we headed past Buckingham Palace and over to the National Gallery, and National Portrait Gallery. We were the best dressed people there, no question.
Here we are huddled under my jacket from the rain: