Valentine’s Competition – win dinner for two
C'mon, readers - Best love story gets tapas for two at the 202 Bar!
Romance, Bromance, Homance…
In our opinion Paris can get stuffed – London is the capital of love. Love Actually, Four Weddings and a Funeral (anything with Hugh Grant in it really) – this city is a centre of attraction.
We want to tell you about our most romantic moment here in London, and we want to hear about yours. Did you take your special someone somewhere special, or did love unexpectedly strike down upon you while you were topping up your oyster card? If you tell us the best story, we’ll reward you with a free meal for two at a fantastic, and appropriately atmospheric tapas restaurant.
Our story
A First Pinter’s tale:
‘Late one Saturday evening, I was returning home (in one of London’s rougher areas), when I was approached by a homeless, female drug addict. She asked me for some change but I was unwilling to pull out my wallet that late at night. She attacked me before chasing me down the street. I ran away past several people but nobody helped.
Luckily I got away and reported the incident to the police. A very kind, helpful officer then took over my case. He brought me out on night patrol to try and identify my attacker. We were unsuccessful but the next time instead of going on patrol he suggested that we meet for a drink. My protector became my lover.’
Now tell us yours
What was your most striking romantic London moment, or did you witness someone else’s triumph in love?
To be in with a chance to win dinner for two, just post your own romantic London moment below by February 14th – Valentine’s Day. It can be romance, bromance or homance – just make sure it catches our eye.
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Third time lucky in London
‘I was in London for the first time when I was 18. I snogged a bloke in a nightclub. But he wasn’t the lasting memory of that holiday. But the tinnitus I managed to pick up from that night is.
The second time I was in London I was 21 and madly in love with this guy that I had met in France. He was the most gorgeous and cool guy I had ever met. We had a brief encounter in the shade of Mont Blanc and several phone and e-mail conversations later he came to see me and we had a fabulous time. I was so in love.
He had to go home, but we were to meet again soon, for sure! But days turned into weeks and weeks into months and when I finally made the trip over, his flame had faded. And I spent a new years weekend in tears.
The next time I arrived in London a few years later, now nearly a year ago it was an all more life changing event. I was moving here with my boyfriend and It was the first time we were going to live together, just the two of us.
A flat was found and after a grueling trip to IKEA we finally went to sleep – together in our own bed. We hadn’t actually managed to put the bed frame together as one piece was missing, but the mattress was ours. And that was pretty romantic to me.
It’s as they say – the third time really is the lucky one!’
We had arrived in London for a weekend away. It was a saturday night, me and my boyfriend were walking back to our hotel room. We had been for a lovely meal and wanted to finish the night with a nice mid night stroll. Whilst walking my boyfriend stopped me and gave me a kiss. He bent down on one knee and told me how much he loved me. He then pulled out a little red box and asked me to marry him. I couldn’t believe it. It was such a perfect night! I’ll remember it for the rest of my life!
I’ve got a lot of interesting ‘love’ stories…
One of my favourite in particular was when I was in grade 11 (Canadian terms here). I played on a boys’ hockey team and all the dudes were super cute (probably encouraged my hockey career a bit more). One day I got up my courage, found our team ‘roster’ (list) and called up the boy I had been pining for.
I asked him to go figure skating at City Hall in Toronto. There was a long awkward pause. “Oh I’m busy this weekend with my grandparents,” he said.” “Maybe another weekend?” I replied. “Probably not…” the voice on the other end replied.
Being a strong, empowered woman, I shrugged off the rejection – his loss! But if that wasn’t bad enough, being rejected by my own team mate of which I would see that Sunday at 6:30 a.m. I found out he told the ENTIRE boys change room.
To this day – TO THIS EXACT DAY. I have seen him around and it is still completely awkward with us. Almost 6 years ago. I’m pretty sure he has bad karma right now. Yep.
Romance in London. I haven’t had much to be honest. There was one moment though…
I was having a terrible day. I was exhausted and stressed out and generally grumpy. But then I got a text message from someone who doesn’t live in London (unfortunately) but who was thinking of me.
He wrote: “Would love to look into your eyes and get that boyish quiver. Slow deep breath and drink your fragrance – hints of jasmine layered with sandalwood.”
I smiled, sighed and wandered home in a romance inspired daze.
London for me is the capital of Love. We visit at least once a month now.
So many reasons for me I will try to keep them brief.
My first proper date with my husband was a day in London strolling through the parks, sharing a boat ride on the Thames, a coffee at Carnaby Street. Just busy doing nothing.
My third date we came back again a month later, I was realising how much he already meant to me, but I wasnt sure of him. As we walked by the river, he kissed me and I was so happy when he said “I know its a bit soon but I love you” London was always a good place to visit but from that moment it is the background of whats become a love affair of a lifetime.
Love in London doesn’t stop there though, married a few years on and we were childless, we started out IVF treatment in Hammersmith, with the brilliant Professor Winston on his free treatment programme. As two embryos were placed the song on the radio playing was “Love is all around,” and the doctor said you are in the best place in London, the UK, no the world for your chance of being a family. Good luck.
It worked so for me London is at the heart of all my reasons to celebrate love.
Sleepless Nights and Yoga
One thing you gotta understand about me is I’m a boy from the South – South Carolina, to be precise. Where I’m from, we respect our ladies. But as soon as my boots touched the hard streets of London when I arrived here last fall, I realized I wasn’t looking for love – I was looking for a good time.
I hit the ground running. I know American girls have a reputation for their hearty appetites between the sheets. But the antics I witnessed at my university’s freshers week introduced me to a whole new level of debauchery. Neon t-shirt wearing girls drinking one pound vodkas took a shine to me. I put my Southern drawl to good use and played the “I’m just a small-town boy trying to make it in a big city” card. Before long, I’d sampled quite a few types of British girls. They showed me the sort of hospitality you’d pay a lot of money for in other circumstances.
The good times rolled for a while. By halloween I’d seen it all. By thanksgiving I was exhausted. The Christmas holiday’s came just in time. I travelled home to visit my family and took a well deserved break from cheap drinks and cheaper women.
I returned to the UK on New Year’s Day fresh-faced and ready to pick up where I’d left off. Within a couple of days I’d made plans with a couple of girls I’d kept in touch with by Twitter over the holidays and I was about to jump back on the treadmill of seduction. But out of the blue, to borrow a quote from Will Smith, my life got switched, turned upside-down.
I came up with a plan: Bikrum Yoga, Wednesday nights, 6-8pm. I realized to keep things fresh, you need to innovate. Although student nights are an extremely efficient way to meet girls, it’s easy to get tired of trying to make conversation with girls who are too drunk to hit the chair the were aiming to sit on. Yoga is great. The women are glamourous and almost always sober, and I feel rejuvenated after every session. Oh yes, I thought I’d just discovered quite the little gold mine. And by week two, I’d found the golden nugget. Her name is Lisa – tall, olive-skinned, brunette, and wears Reebok sweats. The lotus posture is her forte. But she struggles with forward facing dog. A few of us hang out after class most weeks and I’ve gotten to know her. She’s from Surrey. She’s bubbly, smart, and not even slightly interested.
I’ve asked her on a date three times. She’s declined three times. I’ve managed to meet up with her in a ‘just friends’ context but there’s nothing platonic about my feelings. I haven’t even looked at another girl since I’ve met her. I can’t focus on my work for uni. I can’t even sleep properly. I’m hooked.
We were out in a bar with a group of friends last week playing fuseball (I believe it’s referred to as table football on this side of the water). I know this sounds trivial but there was a moment where she looked at me across the table and I know something was there. I kept letting her win. She’s knows I’m a pretty awesome fuseball player so I guess she knew what I was doing when she scored the winning goal. She looked up and smiled at me but she delayed her stare just that bit longer.
This valentine’s weekend is my opportunity. I think she just needs an excuse -something to tip her over the edge and let her say yes to a date. If I won a dinner for two I know she couldn’t refuse. This isn’t necessary a romantic story, but it has the potential to be one.
She’s blown me away. And no amount of 2for1 alcopop-fueled, fresher girls could cure me.
When I was a teenager I lived in Lisbon and I used to go past the local butcher’s shop every weekend on my way to the local market. The shop had a larger glass window and this boy used to stand by the window waving and making funny faces at passers-by.
Some years ago I moved to London and one day my brother said he was going to bring one of his friends over for dinner. My brother’s friend looked very familiar but I couldn’t quite place him. As we were talking it suddenly came to me and I asked him if he ever had a summer job at butchers in Lisbon. He looked very surprised and started smiling. He said he did but some time ago. He then and asked me how did I know. When I told him that he I remember him standing there waving at people he laughed and then denied it saying that he doesn’t remember doing that.
I could see he was just a bit embarrassed as he kept denying and asking things like ‘but which shop was it’ and saying, it could have been his brother. We got to know each other better and in the end he kind of admitted that he might have been him but he did not ‘remember it’.
As we got to know each other better and starting going out, taking long walks in London’s green park and visiting museums, we fell in love. Once he said to me, “So many things happen in life – you go in to a completely new country to find someone that had been so close to you all along.”
Does it count if it didn’t happen in London but in ‘international space’ on my way to London?
I had been single for a couple of months, but was still very much infatuated with a guy I had been seing for only three our four months earlier in the year. I was at the airport, ready to take off to a new life. He had been phoning me non-stop for two days prior to my departure, but I kept ignoring his calls. I was leaving anyway, didn’t see the point.
Approximately an hour before my flight, I decide it’s time to go through security. Might as well wait by the gate. As I stand up from the Starbucks and start walking toward security, I hear someone yell my name: “Asza!”
I turn around and see him coming running. I remember it all in slow motion. Most definitely the ‘movie moment’ of my life. I was speechless. He had tracked down my departure time and flight number and made the near-hour traffic-filled drive to the airport, because he couldn’t bear the thought of me leaving the country without getting to kiss me goodbye.
….. arrived in London (from Weymouth) in 1987 looking for work with my best mate and we’d made plans to stay with her brother until we got ourselves sorted. He met us at Waterloo Station. She’d told me about him before – he was defo the wild one of the family! And there was me wearing the most outrageous outfit ever (leopard print overload) – he was very scared! He was so shy he couldn’t look me me in the eye it was painful! Something was there though – a year later I got a phone call to say I had to be at Waterloo – under the clock at 18.00 – and there he was! Two lovely boys later and we’re still happy xxx
My hubby isnt very romantic but i convinced him to spend the day in london for our 15th wedding anniversary.
We had a great day looking at the sites and later in the evening we went on the london eye. when we were at the very top, looking out over london in the dark with lights glittering all around, he pulled out a beautiful eternity ring and told me what a great wife i am, and he knew that he never shows romance but he wanted to do something special.
He had booked us into a hotel and had already sent our bags on.
in the room was champagne and chocolate strawberries. It was a night to remember. As a couple we may not be romantic but we are still great friends and soul mates after all these years and thats true love in my eyes.
Picture the scene – it was a damp, dreary, valentines morning. I was single, severely hung-over and shuffling dejectedly along a London street in search of a pint of milk and a packet of paracetamol. Scruffy jeans and sweatshirt, a puffy, unwashed face, unkempt hair and the mother of all headaches – all in all, not the ideal look for snaring a valentine, although admittedly, that was the last thing on my mind.
Maybe it was the effects of too much alcohol the night before or just plain lack of sleep but as I trudged along the pavement, I began to feel a bit woozy. I soldiered on but the sensation worsened and next thing I knew, I’d dropped to my knees overcome by dizziness and nausea. Squatting there in the middle of the pavement, I wished – a) the ground would swallow me up and b) I’d never ventured outdoors in the first place. As if from no-where, a pair of trainered-feet appeared and stopped right in front of me – (at least that was one way to stop a man in his tracks!) Their owner crouched down and a male voice asked me my name. I vaguely remember mumbling something back about feeling sick. I was prised to my feet and somehow, manoeuvred across to a nearby wall. He sat me down and sat himself down next to me. Eventually the nausea and dizziness passed and I was about to thank him just as he offered to help me find somewhere to sleep for the night. At first, I’d no idea what he was rambling on about until he starting mentioning ‘hostels’ and ‘hot meals’……and it slowly dawned on me that my good samaritan thought I was homeless. OMG! Did I really look that rough?
I was mortified. I told him I’d had a heavy night and assured him I did indeed have a home – albeit a tiny, rented flat. He was visibly embarrassed and I was still desperate for caffeine so I didn’t complain when he offered to buy me a coffee as an apology. We headed for the nearest cafe and before long, I was starting to see the funny side. I quickly forgot all about my hangover and I discovered Jamie was witty, sporty and compassionate enough to stop and help one of London’s many homeless (or so he’d thought at the time). How could I not fall for him?
He asked me out for dinner that night and when he saw me looking alot less dishevelled than before, he had to admit, I scrubbed up pretty well!!!
London can be a lonely place, but with the right perso n it is a vibrant and exciting city.
My husband treated me to tea at the Ritz – a British institution – and it was a pleasure shared and a memory forever