Scrambled Eggs

Now here's a bit of an obvious one for Beatle Nuts such as myself. Good old Wimpole Street, the rather smart abode where Macca rested his head on a beautiful flaxen haired maiden (at least to start with ?) for a few years in the mid sixties. And of course, this is where he famously knocked out Yesterday...and the story goes the song started its life as 'Scambled Eggs, Baby I really love your legs' or words to that effect. God knows we all know that.

Anyhow, this is that mansion and here is the door - one two three four. Let's look through the square window.

His room was at the top - up there ...see ? But maybe not quite...I think I read he had the room on the other side and had a view over Browning Mews at the back. So here is the back.

Workmen eyed me with extreme wariness as I snapped away. Funny (not really) but no matter how I try to make small talk with those doing a bloody decent proper job, I never seem to quite hit it off. Think about that later.

Here is the Mews - oh for God's sake.

Now the reason for my extra-curricular visit to the greatest metropolis of all this week was to get the yearly corporate medical check up - except this year it was the absolute Full Monty. Three hours of prodding, probing and 'other' examinations which do not bare describing. The conclusion was favourable and the good doctor told me I was in reasonable shape for a man of my age..."I am not a man of my age !" I protested a little too much. Now their expert conclusion may have been just a little optimistic as, if I am really honest, I may have been a little parsimonious with the truth regarding the levels of quaffing and it may just be the case that a few phantom salads found their was into my four day diet diary - perhaps in place of a couple of pasty(s)(s) and chips(s)(s)(s). Interestingly (yeah right) the doctor advised that I should vary my breakfast of toast, toast and more toast with the occasional scrambled egg. Funny you should say that, Doc.

Stumbled across the Rough Trade record shop on the way to the pub ....I mean wholefood shop, Doc. I seem to recall my punk mates (were they my mates ? I like to think so but then again, there was that incident when they threatened to set light to my kaftan....) telling me about Rough Trade being a cool place where they sold bootlegs   -- but only to cool people they added rather pointedly. Happy days