So. Amazingly. Good.
With bulging bellies Dave and I packed our toothbrushes and coin purses into our day bag. We hopped on the bus outside C's door and were on our way to the Tube station.
We got off the Tube at Covent Garden. Dave wanted to visit the Transportation Museum (about the Underground) and I wanted to mozy in the trinkets. We agreed to go our different ways. In the shopping area I picked up a couple of cute metal signs for our garage ('Be Strong & Carry On" & "Notting Hill Gate"), a pink and white flowery scarf . . which completely broke my ban on the trend, but, everyone here is wearing them and I caved, and some funky marzipan. Calling it funky isn't fair. It's just different than American.
Different is an important word. I got into a tizzy about the word different at dinner. That paragraph can wait for now.
While mingling with the trinkets I made my way to a sunny spot on the street stones where I could sit. There I ate my marzipan while listening to some street performers and soaking up a bit of sunshine. It was one of the moments that are perfect. Absolutely perfect. I found myself smeared with feeling of deep gratitude towards a lot of people. It was overwhelming to the point of near tears.
I pulled myself off of my pavement seat when I spotted a Palm Reader. Oh my, I had always wanted a reading. I know that it's a lot of hocus-pocus, but, heavens, I just had to do it once. The reader informed me (once she had me seated properly, because, apparently I don't know how to sit properly?) that I will have a long life, 3 kids will be in my future, and someone with the initial J is in my love line. When I mentioned my grandma's name was June, she assured me that she indeed was the J person, that "your grandmother loved you very much." And, also that I would have to support myself financially all of my life. Yep, she lived up the the hocus-pocus I expected.
(National Portrait Gallery in background)
When I met up with Dave again we hopped the Tube to the National Portrait Gallery. Expecting the best I was not disappointed. In fact, I was over the top pleased. We got our headsets and maps and again split up. I hit nearly all the rooms in the museum and was sure to see the major works of art that were highlighted. In some of the rooms I was able to fully have the art to myself. The self portrait of Rembrandt was inspiring. I thought of all the books and replicas that are in the world, and how much has been debated about this picture. And here I was, alone with this awe inspiring, deep picture of this man. Just him and me alone. Yes, I had another of those 'i'm so stinkin' grateful moments.' Of the art I decided that Raphael's crisp style is my favorite along with Van Eyck. Later Dave and I compared our insights, goodness we just felt artsy educated after our little jaunt.(My new BFF Rembrandt)
In all the art work of Christ's crucifixion (where there are tons of) none of them show the nails in the wrists? Kind of odd. Dave assured me it was a Mormon thing . . . I will have to do some reading when I get home.
(Trafalgar Square)
In the front of the Museum is Trafalgar square. Dave remembers this place as another of his childhood skating places. We snapped a few pictures of ourselves (even one to send into Spokane magazine) and climbed up around the Lions. We realized that to try and climb onto a lion was too big of a feat for us. I remember trying it when I first came at age 21 and being scared of the slipping off possibility. Trying it now I wasn't so afraid of slipping off as I was slipping and breaking a leg. Mommy's can't break their legs, especially in another country.Next we walked to Hamley's to fulfill Dave's childhood memory of going there with his Dad. The store was much bigger than I had even imagined. It reminded me of an FAO Schwartz. Dave walked every floor touching every little thing and I found myself a big kinda-stale Chocolate Chip cookie to eat. We were both happy.
(Hamley's)
After Hamley's we did the ever popular search for a Pub. We found ourselves an out-of-the-way above the shops one. It was dimly lit with dark wall paper, dark wood, and deep jazzy type music. This is where the conversation about different vs. funky came to be. Culinary manners are different here and mine were pointed out as being American. Dave has a mixture of English and American. Needless to say, a hint of contention flew about us.
After dinner we made our way to Tower Hill where we joined in a Jack the Ripper Walk. It had been one of my major to-do's. Although I'm glad we did it, I didn't really learn anything new. The general areas of where the women were picked up and dumped were pointed out . . . but, being that we were freezing cold, shivering from the wind chill, and toting a 30? pound bag of books it wasn't the best scenario for learning.
We were quick to finish the tour and pour our aching selves into the warm seats on the Tube. We made it home in time for Dave to watch some golf with Cecelia and for me to type this up and start some laundry.
Alas, another day gone too quickly.
