Monday night. Celebrity Tour of Notting Hill.
Not that I’m a celebrity stalker but this colourful neighbourhood is well, colourful. I loved the stories of Sir Richard Branson running down Portobello Road in his pants being chased by his lover’s husband and where he launched Virgin Records; of the Tabernacle where Lilly Allen first performed as a 6 year old; of the mews location for the Italian Job; of the church hall where Pink Floyd rocked out; of the studio where Radiohead recorded OK Computer and Lady Gaga, Pokerface.
I had to cut the already truncated tour short and only managed 45 minutes- the full tour is around 2 and a half hours- but I’m signing up for the full version in spring or summer.
You can keep your celebrity ‘Jason Donovan lives here’ and ‘Elle lives here’, quite frankly they’re entitled to their privacy, but when you start unravelling the fabric of this neighbourhood you get the feeling that anything is possible.
There’s a great sense of anti-establishment, creativity, freedom, hedonism, inclusiveness and endless possibilities. It’s a heady cocktail, which the tour pointed out, several have overdosed on but for me, it’s invigorating.
I walked home with a spring in my step and the feeling that perhaps anything really is possible.
And I understood why Richard Curtis so desperately wanted to share Notting Hill with the world. After all, aren’t I doing exactly the same thing?
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