Matt arrived last night to great excitement. He scooted around to the Warrington to have a drink with friends leaving today for Iceland, then started getting into this time zone.
This dreary, grey morning we donned macs, erected umbrellas and took the number 6 into town for a damp walk around some of the landmarks. Piccadilly Circus, Trafalgar Square and Covent Garden. Only tourists were out and about this morning, certainly no mad dogs or englishmen. Even the pigeons had stayed in bed.
Covent Garden was once an important market for London and one of its red light districts. Now it is a charming, touristy set of shops, coffee houses and restaurants. Broadcast announcements warned us to take care with our bags. Syl and Caity and Hugh took off shopping and came back with a handbag (which I presume she bought) and clothes for Ronaldog and JaiLin, now the best-dressed bed-toys in London.
Among the buskers and just around the corner from the Royal Opera House, we heard opera singing to loud applause. Backed by a little amp, this woman was cheerily belting out the classics. She was good. We tipped.
Matt and I walked into the huge, but discretely branded Apple store. Hundreds of people were worshipping at this shrine. Matt was happy. We stroked various glossy devices, then found the others.
Then we yielded to London's weather and took the 6 back to Little Venice.
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