Chilly

The day's warm weather led us optmistically to eat dinner outside at Goya -- a teeny, tiny, teeming Spanish tapas bar tucked away in a nondescript sidestreet in Pimlico. Over conversation ranging from the varieties of HIV education in India to the varieties of committed relationships, we tucked into a very delicious meal of gambas al ajillo al pil pil (prawns in olive oil, garlic and chilli), sardinas a la plancha (grilled sardines), albondigas (meatballs) and fabada (sausage and bean casserole), mopped up with lots of crusty white bread and butter and robust Campo Viejo Rioja. But of course, being England, the weather turned very chilly and I was already calling it a night and legging it to the warmth of the Tube by 10pm. Shame on me.