The Mystery Pianist

I, like many others, have been truly and utterly enjoying the summer weather that has finally hit the UK. I have enjoyed wearing sandals and the feeling of bare toes on grass. I have enjoyed the happy hours at Starbucks with my usual Espresso Frappuccino Light being half price. (It is still on – every afternoon from 3 to 5 up until June the 5th). I have also enjoyed seeing Little Miss G’s bare legs and feet. There is nothing like the bruised legs of a child to bring one back to childhood memories.

Mr H has enjoyed cooking BBQs and I have enjoyed eating al fresco with him and Miss G. He has also done a bit of gardening and Little Miss G was the most wonderful little helper. Mr H has had the nicest birthday weekend which saw us all enjoying quite a bit of park life. I’m sure Little Miss G has enjoyed seeing her Godfather and two Godmothers at the weekend.

There is also something truly and utterly amazing that this summer weather has brought us: the return of the mystery pianist. Like any other Londoner, I think, I don’t really know my neighbours, but there is one whom I love above all others. He or she lives opposite the road from us, in one of those beautiful Victorian houses that are now divided into lots of apartments. Thanks to the summer heat, he or she has been playing with open windows, serenading us with the most amazing music.

S/he is very respectful of convenient social times and starts playing from about 3:30 in the afternoon and then again around 7 or 7:30pm making our dinner time a total and utter bliss. By 9:30 s/he is finished.

The music is divine! It never stops, like a whole big concerto. I’m no musical expert, but I am 99% sure that s/he is playing a grand piano for the music is loud but gentle and it fills the street with an amazing warmth. I risk flies and mosquitos filling my living room for the pleasure of listening to the music through my open patio windows. It is surreal how relaxing, exciting and mesmerising it is.

I don’t think I’ll ever know who is the mystery pianist as there are possibly 20-25 apartments from which the music could come from. I’d love to say thank you to him or her, but I have started to think that it is somewhat more romantic and exciting this way. Every summer night and sometimes some afternoons, I can just close my eyes and imagine myself at the Royal Albert Hall enjoying a serenade played out just for me. And this is just another thing that makes living in London ever so special, you really never know who your neighbours might be. Now, summer heat, please don’t go away too fast!


  1. 27th June 2012 / 10:31 pm

    How blissful! I'm more likely to hear an anonymous indie rock group (through speakers) than actual music. Long may s/he play on (and may the sun shine)..

  2. 27th June 2012 / 10:31 pm

    What an incredibly romantic and balmy tale. Love the image of the musical notes floating in through the windows of your living room.

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