Birthday of Dr. Samuel Johnson (1709-1784)
Another good Virgo. Might make it by his place.
Got in, had “computer issues,” which, to be frank, are probably just as much a part of operator error and trying to tie into some net connection as it is anything else. Cause? Jet lag. Or an extremely short night, or gaining 6 plus hours overnight.
But after I got my feet under me, and I strolled out the door, London was alive. The weather was balmy, actually warmer than Austin, and I slipped into shorts and sandals for the afternoon while I poked around. Eventually headed to Piccadilly Circus, up Shaftsbury Avenue, into China town, and I lost Ma Wetzel there. She was vacillating between a show and shopping.
I just wanted to wander some.
I got asked for directions, twice. Three times, if you count the first moment in the car park (parking garage at the airport), and I never will understand why folks think I have a clue. I can point where we are on map, in a general sense, but that’s about it.
But I did get down to the Embankment tube stop, hoofed it over the pedestrian bridge, and then ambled along the river’s edge up to Westminster, and another tube ride back to the flat.
Eavesdropping snippets of conversation, amazing for someone like me, with my love of language and accents. Spanish-Spanish , not the border patois I’m used to, sometimes referred to as Mexican Spanish. Italian. German. Cockney slang. At least three different levels of English. The odd mid-western – and flat – American accent floating by. A couple of French guys, under a Dali statue of Time, “Can you take our picture please?”
To misquote a famous actor & director, “How an you walk these streets and not know that you’ve been here before?”
Requisite Big Ben shot.
