Notting, not Nodding nor Knotting, Hill

Did you know Notting Hill was named after a man with the word "NOT" in his name? Back then-you know the time period I'm referring to- 'ing' meant 'owns,' and Mr. StephaNOTolus used to own the land. The hill portion can be attributed to the gradient.
Did you know a man was hung for a crime he didn't commit in the Notting Hill region, which led to the abolishment of capital punishment in England?

Did you know that Annie Lenox, who lives in the Notting Hill region of London, takes her own trash out?

Are you agog and slightly stunned at my knowledge of Notting Hill? Would you like to ask me why? I went on a London Walk of Notting Hill and Portobello Market! I wouldn't say we were inculcatated with Notting Hill knowledge, but the walk/tour did cover some extreme facts and was just lovely. The area we visited was off the beaten bath (I meant to say path, but the aliteration was just too good to pass up) and our tour guide, a barrister by weekday (not a 'banister' or 'barista,' there is a difference) was funny, in-your-face, and charismatic. I would rate the walk as informative, humorous, bucolic (but not really), and fuzzy. After the walk I window shopped at Portobello Market, but everything was double-paned and probably wouldn't fit into my window frame anyway, so that didn't last long. The crowning event of the afternoon followed, which was afters at The Orangery. 'Afters' is British for 'desserts.' The Orangery is in a palace and was a swanky affair (not a skanky affair). The restaurant looks like a museum, is priced like each item is a museum artifact, and the staff are dressed like they were museum artifacts. (That last part was a lie, but it would be sweet if they were!) I ordered the Apricot Tart and my friend got the Orangery Cake. They orange taste on the cake was ripened to perfection, and the apricots on my stocky piece of pie were draped in whipped cream. Oh divine. The Orangery was an experience never to be forgotten.