The British Summer is a rare thing. Some years it only lasts a week, in others it arrives early, lulls us into a false sense of security then disappears in a flash, and sometimes (this is really cruel) it never shows up at all. When living on this side of the pond, you get used to celebrating summer on the fly. It’s less a case of “Meet at mine on the third Sunday of July” and more “Quick! The sun is out! Everyone come round this afternoon before it goes away again!” Luckily, this summer has been the hottest and most consistently beautiful one of the seven I’ve spent in London. Consistent enough for two of my good friends to plan this BBQ soirée a whole four days in advance.
My pals live in a lovely flat in Notting Hill (so lovely in fact, that it’ll be showing up on Apartment Therapy in the coming months). As if a gorgeous home in a great neighbourhood weren’t enough, they also have access to a private square, an oasis for the enjoyment of those whose houses surround it.
So, with the sun shining down on London and a whole gaggle of friends in tow, there was only one thing to do. On a Sunday afternoon, we gathered. We drank Pimm’s and ate burgers, shared pie and and conversation, caught up with old friends and made new ones. Here’s a glimpse.
All images © Eleanor Büsing
The attractiveness is killing me.