He arrived wearing black spectacles, matching his dark outfit.
"Here is your oyster", I handed him a card, packed nicely into a Picasso design holder from the Tate. Useless fascinating facts: Picasso used to live most of his life in France and he had a dog called Bob.
Despite having slept badly, Tiger did not show any single sign of tiredness. He was in the city, powerful and graceful.
We got to the hotel area and set off to explore Kensington. He pointed out places he knew and spoke with French accent about French food in French cafes. We sat down at Paul's to have a croissant and an espresso. "Croissants in France taste different, they taste their best there", Tiger reckoned. I shrugged my shoulders and sipped my drink.
Lisbon was here too: 'cafe de nata' looked inviting and jumped to my attention. More Portuguese vibes: Nando's restaurant was visited twice and praised a lot for its lemon and herbs sauce.
The sun was bright and exceptional throughout the whole weekend, so we spent time outside. At Hyde park, he rented and rowed a boat. On the Serpentine, birds flew so close to us, splashing water with their feet funnily, as they were landing on the lake surface. I laughed a lot about the funny birds and Tiger's jokes.
Back at the hotel, I made a point of having a glass of wine before dinner. This was our prelude to the night: Rioja and Savingon Blanc. Also, we got into a lovely upgraded room: king size beds, English breakfasts and all that jazz.
Relaxing in the bar, we discussed the interior of the hotel. Tiger loved the neon pink cow buste above our sofa.
He sipped his Rioja and said: "I do not know about you, but I am fascinated by our commonalities and tastes. We both like luxury, art, travelling. We share common thoughts and opinions. Whenever I think of some idea, I instantly know you will love it if I do..." He continued: "Whatever you have experienced on ex partners... Believe me, when I say, that what we do - is beyond standard. Prerequisite for this is a high state of mind." I smiled. Ex partners could compete with Tiger regarding art... so what would Tiger give me? Art galleries, city travels, Moulin Rouge variette upcoming. "Shall we prepare for the dinner?"
Ok wait, before the conversation could continue, I was ready to celebrate my birthday weekend with style to blow everyone's mind with my appearance and outfit. And I did. Wearing a coumoflage patterned, strict and romantic in one, dress with matching high heel sandals, I looked perfect and it did leave him speechless, followed by a slow "Oh là là!" I felt beautiful and did not say a word.
It meant no more tube.
"What else??!" I innerly smiled. You only live one life, might as well be a beautifully looking bad ass.
Aiming for the Shard, that night, she wore sparking dress, a little surprised by how good she looked in her cloths with the red lipstick on. She looked awesome, shape like a queen, waist defined like the one of a wasp, high heels on. Rick bought her her first ever gin topic and they watched sunset on top of the Shard. He got a little a key ring with an intitial: one for the wondergirl, one for Rick. Dinner around Shaftesberry Avenue and he showed her Seven Dials. That night, they spoke about confidentiality and other stuff, about broken hearts and lots of things. And he heard 'I love you'. And this was the official start of the relationship. Rick promised not to break her heart... Not to disappoint. He sounded convincing how determined he was to make it last. And the future seemed good.
We arrived at Ritz. Which, according to Tiger, was looking twice worse compared to the one in Paris. "And by the way, my favourite sight in Paris is Place de la Venome. When you see the French Ritz, you dare not enter it in jeans", he added. The English part of me was fighting his French and, being too proud but somehow sad about levelling down on this one, I concluded innerly: "London is top. What the hell is Paris?" Pardon my French, I did not know any better then. Paris was yet to come in May. He walked me to F&M shop, where the time stands still. It was an alternative to Selfridges. Oh yes, I admired everything and all admired me back. And the spiral stairs... well, my dear reader, you know it by now - yeah, I had to photograph it!!!!
Dinner at Wolesley's was special. White wine with mouth-watering fish and one of my favourite desserts, hell yeah. "What is custard?", he wondered. I smiled and said: It is a warm vanilla sauce, yum!" My smile made him order and look forward.
"ARE YOU gonna SAY something at last?!", Rick commanded in despair. Under pressure, she was at her worst when coming up with words to say nothing about stories. Both were frustrated...
Conversation carried on. Tiger reckoned, there was nothing bad about holding back on truth, if not actively asked. So I did.
"No, I never lied to you", he answered.
He held my hand and re-ensured me that he loved my silence. "It is never boring with you, even if you are quiet. I have seen your travelling videos and you shine and talk, you transmit happiness", Tiger said. Wine and tiredness got Tiger take me back to the hotel. The night was wonderful. Telling you again, he never said anything about tiredness or sleeping. He waited for me to suggest. In the morning, he slept till eight. We had an amazing English breakfast and set off for a London walk. The touristy suspects included Oxford Circus, Piccadilly, Leicester square, and the Sky Garden visit. That was the best. He liked looking at the cityscape and the estate properties. "I like me better when I am with you", he quoted the song, "thank you for taking me here."
"How often do you travel?", he asked. My reply was, "Every second month and sometimes solo."
Weather turned out sunny again.
Post Scriptum #1:
Why do I always think it's the man - for better or worse? Why can I not grant myself a credit for what has changed and improved in me throughout the last year and ever since my last relationship? We did not go Tate Modern, Tate Britain or the National Gallery. Should have. "So wie so", he kept saying and smiling. We will see. At the airport's Joe and the Juice it was Rick vs. Tiger. Tiger wins. Carrying luggage? Tiger wins.
More deeds, less words? T I G E R.
Post Scriptum #2:
I liked this picture at Picasso's exhibition most. It is called Le Rêve - The Dream. It displays Picasso's lover at that time - Marie - in an extase. This is how I feel whenever I am writing the blog articles, or am travelling or am in love.
I am grateful to all men, who inspired me to write and are the main, ecstatic characters in my blog. Thank you.
Post Scriptum #3: