It's not all about me (apparently)

So after the roast, and a rainy womble around Wimbledon Common, and plenty of idle chatter, and some bodice ripping (no corps, as it turns out, but plenty of corsets and rippling musculature - definitely an R18 sort of ballet), and more idle chatter, I've regained some sense of perspective and a handle on my fairy godmother complex. It's not up to me to fix everyone's problems. Okay then.

Also, I've been reminded of how little I know London (always embarrassing). Three years and until tonight, I'd never been to Sadler's Wells - despite having lived a short walk away for about 8 months. Also, I'd never been on Wimbledon Common and hadn't realised quite how delightful the village is. Having rectified that, it's now firmly on my list of places I wouldn't mind living if a hitherto unsuspected wealthy great-aunt died and left me her musty manse.

A problem I'm not remotely likely to have. Still and all. One must have the list. So far I think Wimbledon is behind Marylebone* and Oranjezicht**, but ahead of Richmond****. I'm not yet familiar enough with the streets of Paris, Zurich and New York***** to rank them.

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* Wins points on central location, although Wimbledon Common is far lovelier than Regent's Park. Also, there's probably a dearth of gardens in Marylebone. And Wimbledon is much easier to pronounce.
** Location is the problem here. Views: amazing. Convenience for central London and/or other glamorous European cities: very low. Being at the tip of Africa and all. But this one is infinitesimally closer to reality*** than the others, since Beloved's mother owns a quarter of such a house.
*** Still about as far off as my chances of starting an organic vegetable farm on Mars. Unlikely in so many ways.
**** Pretty, but flat, and a bit far out.
***** Having never, in fact, been to New York. But I seen it on TV, and bits look quite promising.