Yarriba yarriba!
A yellow flyer is thrust into my hand outside Victoria tube station as I trip over the fifth “Stylist” distributor and shuttle past the ninth Pret a Manger on the one road. Picante Mexican Grill it reads. A happy “Mexican Day of the Dead” skull smiles up at me, full of the promise of fresh and tasty burritos, chilli-laced tacos and and silky green guacamole. “HURRAH!” I sing – “There is a God!” And he is clearly as sick of bloody Pret as I am! Continue reading
