I read a post this morning – alas, I am still getting up at 4 am – about a young writer who began blogging, got involved with a group on Twitter, and they are about to publish an anthology. She’s realizing her dream as a writer through and with people she has met only on the internet! Life is quite something.
Now…back to Europe. London was impressive with its castles, royalty, and pomp and circumstance (think Buckingham Palace’s changing of the guards). FYI, the police, also known as bobbies, now carry guns! We arrive at The Dorchester early morning, after surviving the equivalent of the red eye. The English love flowers and the lobby welcomes us with a profusion of pink and white roses and lilies. Somehow,
on very little sleep but much exaltation (the result of the flowers’ beauty and fragrance or perhaps just being abroad) we muster the strength to wander the town. We pass the palace as we walk to Westminster Abbey, a magnificent structure, and the Churchill Museum, a place of pure history, where, how and with whom is depicted England’s part in ending World War ll. We saunter past Trafalgar Square (and I am reminded of an old folk song I sang as a child), and go into the National Gallery, that beckons the unsuspecting with an enormous sculpting of an electric blue rooster. I have no idea…there’s no explaining art but there’s no ignoring it either.
After lunch in a small bistro, some coffee as a late afternoon pick me up, and hours upon hours of walking the pleasant streets of London, it is evening. I’m sure we had dinner, although the specifics of where and what escape me. I remember little of that day after the blue rooster. I know we settled into a comfy bed and slept a deep sleep, as the ‘morrow was expectant with new adventure. To be continued…