Perfect Weekend

Perfect Weekend

Every month FT’s How To Spend It magazine asks someone to describe their perfect weekend. This week it was the wonderful designer Paul Smith. Here I have a go.

There are many weekends when we are away. However, since I retired  nine years ago, to make the weekend at home different , I have made various artificial changes to the routine. It starts by changing the all information Radio 4 to all music Radio 3. Giving up muesli for croissants, English breakfast  tea for the darkest Continental coffee bean. More important Saturday is paper day. The all dancing heavyweight FT and Guardian packages give us enough breakfast reading for nearly the whole  week.

Vivien does yoga on Saturday morning and I wallow in the papers. The climax of which  is when I take the excellent Guardian Review section to the old fashioned ,slightly decrepit Bricklayers Arms. Here at midday  Saturday a group of ageing oarsmen from nearby London Rowing meet. I sit in the corner and listen. If Fulham are playing at home others join.

There are days when it is so bright that a walk is  called for,two  hours either across the Park or along the  river gets me to Richmond, slightly less time across the Common gets  me to Wimbledon. Then it’s back by bus or train .

If Rosslyn Park are playing at home I might go, I often do a matinee either in the West End or go to one of the nearby fringe theatres in Richmond or Shepherds Bush. Two weeks ago Viv and I went to Low Level Panic at the Orange Tree. On the way home I might pop into the club for a couple.

A pleasant supper a deux would inevitably be followed by  snoozing in front of another excellent Scandy detective series.

Sunday would kick off with Leo bringing grand daughter Octavia for breakfast and  skyping Adelaide in Sydney. By mid morning we are free to either cycle to Kew Gardens or walk to the Wetlands to bird watch, or Bishops Park to buy great bread and superb olives. Mid afternoon often sees us catching a bus to one of the nearby Curzon cinemas to watch an art film. French preferably. Typically on Sunday we saw Elle with Isabelle Huppert. Of which more tomorrow. Move over Pooter.Exciting times!

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