@LillianGish In London terms I'm not close, but those are the ones. (there's a second one there, and a couple more elsewhere🙂) I'd say approximately twice plus a bit, distance Pigalle is from central Paris.
There's lots of interesting trees quietly planted by migrated folk, that have thrived despite the climate differences and others self seeded. I've one in my garden with extra long thorns to protect it from being nibbled by giraffes. It's almost certainly from a digested berry dropped by a bird visiting the huge ancient specimen in a Victorian ornamental tree collection nearby.
The other thing we have in London is everyone's embassies, some with Orangeries, and hot houses, and I'm aware of a hot house crop of not ripening bananas that might be headed for compost soon.
I tend to see the city, especially at night, without the divisions most carve it into, and cross the river and other boundaries with impunity, somewhat scandalizing actual proper Londoners, especially the younger Dc's older grandmother. 😊
Given any financially viable excuse, I'll also happily, 'pop' up and down to different cities and areas and divert to known foraging spots, and consider places much closer than is apparently normal, so 'close' is more relative to traffic and finding work that covers fuel travel costs... 🙂
I love your autumnal centerpiece, it's very elegant.
@Bimblesalong I'm afraid I'd be tempted to see what happened if you slowly heated the old vanilla pods in sugar syrup, they may still have something to offer.
@RainbowZebraWarrior Mr Darcy is a sweetheart. The lovely cat that used to let us fuss him, is sadly no more. (the price of freedom) So closest cat access we now have, is CAT!
Despite looking quite sweet his ears tell another story. Fiercely feral by choice, though fed daily; is a vociferous hunter on top, and very much King of all he surveys.
Definitely getting colder as he 's now hopping into vehicles for brief warm up respites and even deigning to allow some favored foolish humans to scrittle and even stroke him, when he is in the mood for it.
However, it takes very little, including asking him if he'd mind leaving, (yes he does mind!) to cause ripped flesh or a bone crushing bite and tenacious hold, until forcibly wrestled off, hence his name is in capitals.
He's developed his winter coat and is in fine fettle, personifying the less cozy side of Autumn, as he stalks his territory at night and reminds everything in his path that nature is red in tooth and claw.