The local London time is 6.50 a.m. I’m moving downstairs to breakfast in a few minutes, but thought I should try to update one day before starting the next.
I visited yesterday two places new to me. My first stop, after a Tube ride, a bus ride, and a couple of wrong turns, was the Museum of the Order of St. John, an ancient group of hospitalier knights, reconstituted under Queen Victoria as a medical corps. The 12th-century crypt was interesting, and the medals and insignia were fascinating. But I doubt I shall take this one in again.
After making my way by bus and Tube over to Piccadilly, I walked down to Trafalgar Square, did my toiletries shopping at a Boots at Charing Cross Station, bought a new SIM card for my international phone, and then took lunch at The Silver Cross pub on Whitehall. My chicken and mushroom pie was tasty.
Funny thing: I’m eating more vegetables here than at home. I’ve had carrots for three meals already.
My second big stop of the day was the Household Cavalry Museum at Horse Guards. What fun this was. I posted some pictures from there yesterday.
And then I went on down to the Abbey, walking in a slight drizzle. I ate a bit of refreshment in the Cellarium (vaulted ceiling, painted china, something so English about the place). And then I attended Evensong, sitting this time in the Nave. It was Uganda Day, so the High Commissioner (aka Ambassador) from Uganda read the second lesson.
Dinner last evening was with my colleague Bill Lynch, director of Webster University London. We dined on local produce at Canteen at the Royal Festival Hall, just a few blocks from my hotel. I loved the sight of the London Eye all lit up in blue as I walked past it.
Funny sights from Monday:
Three Jewish boys in yarmulkes and Westminster Abbey school suits. I just got a chuckle thinking about Jewish boys being educated at a school run by the royal peculiar that is the Abbey….
Twice during five minutes, tourists got too close to the guard standing outside the horse paddock at Horse Guards. He can’t speak to them, so he startles them with a rattle of his kit and stamping of his feet. And then protocol says he must march, since he moved. I saw the tourists jump, and then his grim-faced march up and down his duty post. ‘Twas both funny and quite serious at the same time.
A workman near Farringdon station, cigarette dangling from his mouth, unshaven. And his fly down. Shown pink polka dot boxers underneath.
An elderly Filipino woman with garish orange lipstick.