The Terrace That Wouldn't Let Us Out

Bob taught in West London today, so we met in Marylebone for a bit of a wander. This dog watched passers-by on the high street

and we tried Natural Kitchen's coffee for the first time and were very impressed, even though it was take-away coffee, which usually ends up being too cold (for me) and too papery-tasting (for bob). Oh how difficult to please we are! After enjoying our coffees in a nearby park, we bought a few groceries and started to walk in the general direction of home. We soon discovered that we hadn't walked on these streets before, and liked the variety of grand buildings
and quaint mews homes
that filled the area. Cutting into Regent's Park, the foliage was beautiful, as usual,
and when we exited the park, we found ourselves in a rather annoying series of dead ends and locked gates that meant we had to take quite a few detours to continue toward home. The complex that caused us such grief was this one:
With no shortage of chauffeurs waiting in Mercedes for the wealthy people to emerge from their homes, you'd think that Chester Terrace would have a more pleasing sign--as it stands, everything is typographically off-balance and the ostentatious scope of the sign is more comical than pleasing. Bitterness over all the dead ends? Maybe . . .