So, in the heart of vibrant Shoreditch I found an oasis called
Jamies [sic]. The first thing you see are the twin staircases spiralling up to a corridor resembling a New Orleans veranda or the front of a Mexican
hacienda - only, somehow disappointingly, the pastel green doors did not open into the luxuriant beauty of a South American inner courtyard nor the warm interior of a Creole house, but to a selection of stylish, beautifully decorated, perfectly functional toilets. The staircases are, I imagine, an exercise in equilibrium on a Friday night. The only way you can survive the twisting and turning of those steps is by ordering just the right amount of food to go with your wine.
