I took a friend to Notting Hill recently. One reason for this trip and one reason only. The movie. And it was a very good movie. We walked down Portabello Road, past the antique shops and on to the street market. We stopped for photos outside Mr Thacker’s bookshop. Which is now a trashy souvenir shop. And we had breakfast in a bistro.
I detected a sense of disappointment. I had warned her that this might be the case. I like Notting Hill, but if you go there expecting a movie set, you are likely to be disappointed. I like Notting Hill for it’s colour. Ironically, there’s very little colour in the movie. Despite having had a large West Indian population since the 50s, the movie made the place look awfully white.