port

This has been a very good decision - made on December 27th last year - to come and spend four of the seven nights that we're in London not actually at my parents, but at a hotel ten minutes or so walk away.  Cannizaro House backs onto the private park where, I believe, I took my first steps (and where, years ago, Alice ate her first English cream tea).  When I was much younger, it had a sullen air about it - it was a nursing home, and then became offices for Wimbledon Borough Council.  The gardens (especially the big bird cage, full of budgies and canaries) were much fun.  But I never thought in a million years that I would be staying here - let alone finding that the luxury service includes a rather pleasing little carafe of port.