Notting Hill is generally not a good place to have a quiet breakfast on a Saturday. The place is packed. But this is where the Oxbarrio to London bus service stops to let off the promdis like me who are sick of the dreamy spires. Fortunately, there are at least two Starbucks outlets which act like sponges, absorbing the Gringos leaving the local cafes free of their obnoxiousness.
Beware the London Chapter of the Dugo-dugo and Salisi gangs....
Cafe scene. Lots of wonderful accents from people around. I can practice my throat clearing spitting Arabic, conjugate my irregular Spanish verbs, and roll my German. Sadly, the Filipino-accented English is dying because every frigging Flip wants to be like Lea Salonga and sound North American. As por mi, I layk to kep et real yo and I try my best to limit my use "like" as an adjective, noun, verb, question, etc. which is one of the worst legacies of the USA to our islands. Let's all speak Filipino English. Se et lawd, se et prawd.
Notting Hill is Baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad for your finances. One, it has lots of vintage comic book shops. Two, it has lots of retro ukay-ukay shops. Three, it has lots of proper cafes.
