I know it's inevitable in such a sprawling ever-changing city such as London, but the more I live here, the more I feel the soft but sad blow when you're walking somewhere familiar and you notice something missing. This is the backdrop to Soho's notorious Cruisy Suzie public toilet near Berwick Street. An entire building just disappeared. I have no idea what it was - in my head it was something official looking, a mini-Ministry of Truth. But it had a big doorstep and a deep set doorway, perfect for taking shelter from light wind and rain. It was one of the few spots that me and my friend Edgar would take refuge in when we met in town and were too broke to drink in one of soho's many extortionate bars, grabbing some cans from the run down Budgens (or Co-op or whatever underdog supermarket chain it is) down the road. It's funny how little spaces where we once conspire become so bound up with your memories of a person, even if it was mostly speculating about various men entering a public toilet.
You might have noticed this blog isn't about coffee, for a change. I'm attempting daily blogging, so diversifying.