The rain, and the darkness, this teatime, reminds me that one year I stopped off in another place of religion.
Ostensibly it was to look at the stained glass windows, beside the cloisters, but the light was not so good.
Besides which the contractors were half-way through their renovation work, so the access was somewhat restricted.
Since that time Patisserie Valerie (where I had those sumptuous, warm, Pastéis de Nata) has been through an administration process.
Alas, the branch in which I sheltered from the rain, wondering how long the High Street could survive, has been closed down.
That evening I stayed in a budget hotel, dining in my room, on supermarket take-away food, for my evening meal.
As if I was trying to live out the sublime to the ridiculous, for no other reason than that I thought I could.
