They were queuing outside even before it was open. By the time I came back and made it through the doors the party was in full swing.

Old regulars sat with bottles of wine to toast Lorenzo’s retirement. Some moved from table to table greeting old friends. People brought here by all the coverage on TV and radio sat and wondered just how this place had stayed the same for the last fifty years. Outside tourists peered in through the windows wondering which celebrity was inside unaware that it was the gray haired man working the pink expresso machine.

The waiters and the kitchen manfully tried to deal with a weeks worth of orders in a few hours as people walked slowly around the cafe with video recorders trying to soak up every last poster and plant before the doors closed forever.

I took my bill to the old manual cash machine to say goodbye to Lorenzo, “Still closing ?”, I asked hopefully, “Of course”, he replied gruffly and smiled.

I said goodbye, wished him a happy retirement and walked away from part of London’s history and part of mine ..