A Sunday in Hampstead

Pointing out the buildings of who stays/stayed where (Boy George here, Keats there, Elizabeth Taylor behind that, 2 of the evil spice girls on top of that...), the tour guide illuminated hidden cobbled back alleys on this (expensive) village within a city on a hill with a massive heath running through it. We were bounced about between modern, Victorian and Georgian London, harshly reminding the naive and niggling the realistic of their visions of London-living, that is in fact possible, but out of reach to the lower and middle classes. For the attainable reality, we merely had to look at each other - Samuel from Holland, Justin from Cape Town, Michel from France etc. as we scoffed down gourmet crepes from a stand on the main road after the tour ended, as a reminder of why this place, not home (not yet at least) has sucked us in from all over the globe.