Ok, so it kind of ruins the surprise when it's in the title... I was surprised, though.
After finishing my Reporting exam this morning (it was pretty much what I expected, and I don't really do analysing exams, so I'll leave it at that), I had a very long chat with Journalism School's lovely secretary, Bob (yes, I know I'm not even trying any more, but I like the name Bob. It reminds me of Blackadder (NB: the Bob I am talking about is almost certainly a man, in case you were wondering)) about Norwich Times (turns out a certain Jack Shannon was in his class...), during the course of which I realised I'd completely forgotten that I'd arranged to meet my similarly lovely Career Man this afternoon at the Royal Festival Hall. Luckily, I had loads of time to get there (turns out travel in London early on a Saturday morning (and to a lesser extend, Saturday afternoon) is very efficient because everyone's still in bed and what have you), which was doubly convenient as on my way in I was ambushed by a market:
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The first (and last) appearance of Scarf Man! |
As if this wasn't alarming enough, the market turned out to be made up almost entirely of stalls selling chocolate. I took pictures to stop myself buying anything (Christmas shopping has to be a priority at the moment, and I had carrot sticks in my bag so was unlikely to waste away) and wandered around with my mouth watering.
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Chilly chocolate sellers |
I don't have pictures of the chocolate fountain, the mulled wine stall, or any of the free sample trays, because the crowds there were insurmountable, and some unscrupulous people had camped around them, using their children as siege weapons of Social Shame. I almost stepped on so many toddlers!
However, there were lots of big chocolate companies doing their darndest to make even more money out of beleaguered Christmas shoppers (yes I'm bitter because I didn't get any chocolate):
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Frankly, I'm still impressed with my restraint |
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Almost too cute to eat (Hotel Chocolat, I believe) |
There were a few more random stalls as well:
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Fresh baked goods, as if the other stalls weren't tempting enough |
I'm also fairly sure I heard a man in a makeshift tent giving a speech about how he'd made a career change from slaughtering chickens to crafting quality chocolate. I'm sure the two are surprisingly similar, if you look closely...
I met my Career Man in the cafe-y area of the Festival Hall itself, which was pretty packed, and we had a very long chat about how to target the job market and other things I'm not going to tell you so you don't steal my future job plans. A woman in vaguely Nordic garb snatched a spare chair from our table, positioned it in front of the huge window running the length of the cafe area and started warbling. She sounded like an amateur opera singer warming up, albeit one who'd never actually listened to any opera. Rather odd. Luckily, a friend (or possibly carer) arrived to lead her away after about 20 minutes of this.
Since coming home, I have finally given the washing up the care and attention it deserves. It was getting pretty dark on my walk back. At half four. Stupid winter.
Now I'm going to post this before it becomes tomorrow, then go to sleep and wake up only when I feel like it! I'm excited already.
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