Just Don't Look Down

the Queen waved back

Anna and I left London yesterday morning after being terrorized by a horde of vicious bargain shoppers at Primark, a chain like Forever 21 but cheaper and full of piranhas, the clothes being the meal of choice.  The only shopping we have done so far, and we barely escaped with our lives.  We are now in Oxford, but I wanted to share some of our other London adventures of the past three days.

Being the ever-faithful tourists that we are, we visited the Tower of London, climbed Tower Bridge, cruised the Thames, meandered past Buckingham Palace and explored St. Paul’s Cathedral.  The Tower of London was extremely crowded.  Tower Bridge was slightly more enclosed than when Robert Downey Jr. was jumping around on it. Our guide on the Thames was a hoot, though Anna and I were some of the only people guffawing at his jokes amid a largely non-English speaking crowd.  He said he spoke 5 languages: English, Scottish, Irish, Welsh and sometimes American, but the American was legitimately questionable because his accent was so thick.  

I remember the railing being lower

St. Paul’s was especially memorable because when I say we “explored” I mean I was convinced by a certain sister to climb 500+ steps to the tippy top of the dome where you then climbed out onto an open-air balcony with an uncomfortably tiny and low railing that dropped many hundreds of feet to the ant-people in the square below.  I promptly shrank against the wall, emerging only briefly to pose for uncomfortable pictures. Anna can testify to my fear of heights, as she was my brave companion climbing up the Eiffel Tower and the Sagrada Familia as well.  She claims she has a bruise from where I was clutching her arm.  It’s possible.  But I made it up, and I’m so glad I did it. Nothing could beat that view! Thanks to Anna for the steady encouragement, the Spanish fellow at the top of the dome who teased and distracted me, and the track on the audio guide playing joyful choir music that I blasted on my headphones the whole way up. 

worth it.

Anna, Harry, me

We were lucky enough while in London to be able to meet up with Harry Hill, our sort-of British cousin.  His uncle is married to our aunt, but we hadn’t seen their family in twelve years, the last time being when Harry had a broken nose from a pesky tree on a ski mountain in Aspen being in the wrong place.  It was so fun to reconnect and catch up on the opposite side of the pond.  Harry took us around Covent Garden, Chinatown and Leicester Square and we shared a fabulous Chinese feast.  And Pimm’s. It was a ‘cracking’ good time.

(Side note, especially relevant to da roomie, Mary Beth: we saw a bunch of people with sleeping bags waiting for the premier of the One Direction movie at Leicester Square.)

Anna and I have started watching The Tudors sometimes after a hard day of sightseeing.  It seemed relevant. Because what goes better with your afternoon tea than some courtly intrigue and murder.  Speaking of tea, our bodies seem to have perfectly adapted to this climate because precisely between 3:30 and 4 pm we both feel a distinct energy slump that can only be remedied by a hot cup of PG Tips and a ginger cookie.

More about Oxford soon!  It’s late and Anna just sat up in bed mumbling something about meeting up with friends, so I think I’m keeping her awake with my light.

Cheers.