So, I was going to just swipe Deb’s excellent post and rename it “Things I should say to people who keep asking if Tom and I are going to get engaged,” but my English teachers always said that plagiarism is bad.
But still, the sentiment is there.
I’ve posted the best of the remaining London photos. These are from the British Museum, the Lord Mayor’s procession, and Portobello Road.
By the way, this is me making an ass of myself in the British Museum.
Due to the aforementioned incident with the missing underthings from my suitcase, I took the excuse to go lingerie shopping at Harrod’s.
Now, you must understand, ordinarily I buy my knickers at the likes of Target and TJ Maxx. Because I am cheap, you see. Also, I am picky about bras and when I find one I like, I will often buy several of the same type just so I don’t have to go through the labor of finding another one.
The men’s restroom at Harrod’s happens to be right next to the lingerie section. So while Tom availed himself of the facilities, I did some browsing. When I saw 62-pound price tags on some of the bras, I expected to walk away empty-handed; the exchange rate made that about a $120 bra. But gradually, I drifted toward the back and found the cutest pink satin set with little black daisies printed on it. Just then, Tom found me, glanced at the items I was so wistfully examining, and said, “Those would be really cute on you.” I sighed. “I know, but I’m not sure I can justify 50 pounds for underwear.” “Well, it’s up to you, babe.” So we wandered around the lingerie displays a bit more (which he didn’t seem to mind at all) so I could see what the other options were. I became convinced that there was nothing there I liked as much as the little pink satin things. I looked up at Tom and said, “You liked those pink ones, didn’t you.” He grinned a little and nodded.
So I bought them. They are the most expensive pieces of underwear I own, but I love them.
We’re home! The cat is currently alternating between curling up and purring and chewing on us for our audacity. Oh yeah, and giving me that huge-eyed, Puss-in-Boots look. Goofy animal.
Got to Heathrow this morning in plenty of time and had a much better flight than last time. Upon arrival at Dulles, the transition through immigration and customs was relatively smooth. I have to wonder, though, what exactly is it that the customs agents do? The one let me through sort of glanced at my declaration card, noted the food items I had listed on it, tilted his head and said, “Anything else?” “Nope, that’s it!” And he nodded and let me through.
I realize that I don’t look like an international drug smuggler, but I had expected maybe a little more thoroughness now that Customs is under Homeland Security. Not that I’m complaining, mind you- Upon arriving in London, I discovered that my deodorant and a bra were missing from my suitcase. Some pervy TSA agent is now wearing my underwear….
And I’m sure Tom will post a rant about this, but let’s just say that the Super Shuttle is not terribly Super. It took 3 hours to get home from the time we checked in at the Super Shuttle Desk.
But we’re home now and recovering from the jet lag. Yay. 
Went to the British Museum today and saw the Rosetta Stone and Parthenon sculptures. For free.
Suck it, London Transport Museum.
There’s nothing like getting away from the office for a week to help one’s outlook on life. Despite the fact that I’ve been walking several miles each day for the last several days, I feel more well-rested than I have in months.
And it’s STILL SUNNY in London! What did I do to deserve this good fortune?
Another quick question- I keep hearing this cover version of Simon & Garfunkel’s “The Only Living Boy in New York.” It’s a pretty good cover, but I have no idea who recorded it. So I turn to the vast population of the Internet. Does anyone know?
Dear President Bush:
Please fix the exchange rate so that everything in London doesn’t cost twice as much for Americans.
Love,
Tiff
It’s time for a little rant on this topic. The exchange rate currently is $1.93 to one pound sterling. But the perceived value of the pound and the dollar is roughly the same. What do I mean by this? The average Londoner would gladly pay 6 pounds for the same item that would cost $6 in the States. In other words, the numbers on the price tags here in London are about the same as they would be back in DC, but since the dollar is weak right now, the stuff costs twice as much in dollars. So that 6 pound print I bought yesterday at Portobello Road (the cute one that matches my dishes) actually cost $12, even though it would have been priced at $6 had I bought it at the Clarendon Antiques Market.
This makes it very expensive for Americans to travel to Britain, let me tell you. The exchange rate for the Euro is better- it’s $1.32 to one Euro. (Sure Joseph, mock the Brits for clinging to the pound, but the pound is significantly stronger than the Euro at the moment. )
This was on my mind as we considered a visit to the London Transport Museum yesterday. We decided not to go once we realized that admission to the museum was 6 pounds. Twelve Dollars?! I saw the Magna Carta the day before for FREE! What does the Transport Museum have to show me that’s worth $12 more than the Magna Carta?!
So we didn’t go.
Also, I have learned something important on this trip. For days, I’ve been watching women walk around with their scarves all wrapped the same way. And since they never seemed to have a problem with the scarf shifting or blowing around in the wind, like I was having, I spent a few days trying to figure out how it was done. Finally, it dawned on me. A SLIPKNOT!! All these years I’ve been struggling with my scarf when the answer was so simple. You just fold it in half, drape it over the back of your neck, and thread the loose ends through the looped end, and slide it so the loose ends hang down in the front. How did this never occur to me?
Well, probably because the idea of putting a slipknot around my neck isn’t that exciting. But be that as it may- I quickly discovered that my scarf was too short to be worn effectively this way, so I decided to acquire a longer scarf. And I found exactly what I wanted at the Portobello Road market. It’s pretty, it’s warm, and it’s long. I will not tell you what I paid for it, because with the exchange rate being what it is, I guarantee you that I overpaid. But my neck is warm and I’m not running the risk of losing the scarf anymore. Yay!
I’ve got photos from Tiff’s Grand London Adventure Days 1-3 posted online. God Bless the Internet- it makes it possible to show everyone my vacation photos without boring the snot out of anyone.
We’ve had two and a half days of bright sunny weather. Sunshine! In London! For two and a half days! In London! What good fortune! And I have photos to prove it- and Tom has many more.
Yesterday we attended the Remembrance Day ceremony at the Cenotaph, with our poppies on display. Then it was off to St. Paul’s. We climbed to the top of St. Paul’s. Hold on, maybe the significance of that is lost on you.
We climbed. To the top. Of St. Paul’s Cathedral. That’s 530 steps. That’s 38 stories!! I thought I was going to die up there and the local constabulary was going to have to haul my out-of-shape American ass out of there on a scaffold attached to the side of the building like they had to do for the guy who broke his leg in the Whispering Gallery. And they fool you, too. At the bottom of the steps there’s a little sign that says “It is 530 steps to the top of the Dome,” but then you look, and there’s this wide, spiral staircase where the individual steps are only about 2 inches high. Piece of cake!
Hah. Suckers. You walk the 259 steps to the Whispering Gallery, and huffing and puffing, you cross the Gallery to get to the steps up to the Stone Gallery. Which are about a foot and a half across, and 5-6 inches high. They’re also uneven and not terribly deep, so as you go up the steps, you’re constantly aware that the step isn’t really deep enough for your foot. Fortunately, there are benches on the landings. Finally, you leave the Stone Gallery and go up to the very top of the Dome via some even more narrow and more treacherous iron staircases. Finally, there’s an especially narrow and low-ceilinged set of steps out to the top. My hips brushed the walls as I passed through. The balcony around the dome is only wide enough for one person to pass, but there are little furrows you can hide yourself in as someone passes you if needed.
Despite all the complaining I’m doing about it, the view from the top is really quite magnificent and the climb is completely worth it. But if you’re going to do it, I advise some athletic training first. Cardio, and endurance.
Today we did the Tower of London tour. I was completely ignorant of what the Tower actually is- I’ve only ever heard of it in connection with people being locked in it before being executed or otherwise killed in some gruesome fashion, so I pictured it as, well, just some Tower, built as a prison, rather like the Bastille.
The Tower actually originated as a palace and fortification for William the Conqueror to rule from, and was eventually built out to such size and complexity that there are now 44 families who live on the Tower Green. I was a little embarrassed at my ignorance once I actually saw the Tower, but this is why I travel- to become less ignorant. We toured the Jewel House and the Armoury, but alas, no photography inside. So the only photos I have for you are of the Tower Grounds, but those are pretty good, if I do say so myself.
We also saw the British Library today, at least, the collection we care about- there’s a Treasures of the British Library exhibit with things like the Magna Carta, Beethoven’s original handwritten score of the 9th Symphony, a Gutenberg Bible, etc. Very neat stuff. I could tell you about it, but what would I say, really? What do you say about viewing documents that are not only older than your country, several times over, but which also form the basic underpinnings of Western Civilization? Suffice it to say, there was so much to see that I couldn’t help myself flitting back and forth from display case to display case: “Oh! Look at this! Ooh!! And that’s so amazing!” So clearly you must just go to London and see this for yourself.
Arrived safely in London yesterday, having had about 2 hours of sleep on a flight unusually full of screaming children. We arrived at the hotel around 9 AM, wanting nothing more than a shower and a quick nap, but it was not to be- we couldn’t check in until 2 PM. With several hours to kill, we explored Hyde Park, the Albert Memorial, and visited Trafalgar Square.
The Albert Memorial is beautiful- as I looked at it, I kept think how Victoria must have loved him to have built something like that in his memory.
We had a lovely dinner out for my birthday- it’s funny. With the excitement over coming to London, the fact that I turned twenty-six yesterday was a distant second in my thoughts and I nearly forgot my own birthday.
The connection at our hotel is molasses- slow, but I’ll post more, and with photos, as I’m able.