Normal Life??

I am in the Phoenix airport.  Fortunately, not still, but again.  I arrived here from Heathrow less than 36 hours ago, now I am back, this time with my four boys.  We are on our way to a family wedding in Steamboat, Colorado.  The boys are looking forward to wearing their new suits, seeing second-cousins who babysat them 10 years ago, and dancing all night long (the apple doesn't fall far from the tree).

The past 36 hours have been intense--sleeping for the first time in 24 hours after my trans-atlantic flight, getting school supplies for Grant and Ari, who have their first day on Monday (the day we roll back into town), paying bills, changing furnace filters, dropping gifts off for friends, haircuts....normal life.  I told my flatmates that most days I don't sit down all day long--and that is true (except for in the car when I am chauffeuring from school to marital arts, to play practice, to mandolin lessons...).  I didn't sit down much in London (except to do classwork on the computer) but that is the only similarity my life in Prescott has in common with the three weeks I spent  London.

I hadn't left my kids over night for the first 10 years of Grant's life.  I was with them 24/7 for years--I remember being at the dentist's office when I had 3 babies under the age of 5 and thinking, "This is the first time I have been alone for months."  Getting my teeth cleaned was bliss.  Contrast that with London in July--I got a bed to myself, I got to wake up and go to bed whenever I wanted, I could go to the Pub, eat Indian food, dance all night, walk for miles...I got to do my own thing on my own schedule.  Sure, I had flatmates and class deadlines, but their pull on me was pretty small compared the to pull of four boys who want fed three times a day and expect clean clothes and entertainment daily.

I loved my crew in London, we had unbelievably good times--they schooled me on things that I missed out on, since I skipped over the single scene and went straight to married at age 21 and have been immersed in kid life for the past 13 years.  I learned new slang, had my mind blown by song lyrics, and now have a list of ten movies I must watch to be hip.  We are already making plans to meet up at the ALA conference in Las Vegas next summer.  They will be glad to see me, but they won't be jumping up and down and yelling, "Mama, Mama, Mama! I missed you, did you bring us presents?  Do you like my haircut?  What was your favorite thing you ate in England?  Can we move to Dublin?  Do English men really always wear dress shoes?  Which dress shoes should I take to London? When can we open presents?"  All within the first 20 seconds I see them...

My boys really missed me--I was busy and having new experiences and filling my days with London, Paris, and Ireland.  They were at home together, watching movies, playing with friends, and waiting for me to get home.  The reception I got melted my heart, made me proud of them and redouble my resolve to take them with me on the next trip.  I may not get to do whatever I want when I want, but it will be richer when I see new things through their eyes filled with wonder.  And when I do sit down, the four seats next to me will be filled with my boys.

The Ultimate.

The ultimate day.  Our last day in London is already here.  I can't believe the time has gone so fast.  It seems like just yesterday, not three weeks ago, I arrived to my flat on Great Russell Street.  Some of my  class mates are super anxious to go home, I am not as ready yet--I miss my boys, but I would rather have them come here to me than to go back to them in Arizona.  I keep seeing things and having experiences I want them to share with me.  They would love all the clothes and music here, they would be fascinated by the crazy street signs (PLEASE USE TOILETS PROVIDED) and street performers.  The trains would be fun, the rollerblading police would be thrilling, and the cases of pastries would delight.

Everything, even run-of-the-mill things like buying groceries and going to the park is different here, and the kids would revel in it.  They would love the ponds in the Regent's Park, the self-scanners at Sainsbury's.  Ordinary things like vintage green scooters at Old Spittlefield Markets would be memorable.

I will show them the pictures and tell them about the skyscraper I saw that was covered in plants.  I will play the video I shot of the Rolling Stones concert.  I will share everything I have seen and really hope that my four boys will get have the same wonderful experience in London as I have had the past three weeks.  This trip has re-affirmed by desire to travel with them more, to show them there is much more in the world than just what they know in Prescott, Arizona.  They need to know how diverse the rest of the world is, that most people I met speak more than one language, and the importance of wearing really nice shoes.

I was dreaming of taking them to London, and then to Paris, but now I think that I would start out in Ireland.  I didn't know what to expect in Dublin, but I would love to take the kids there.  I was stunned at the warm atmosphere.  Everyone I met, totally without exception, was kind, cheerful, and jovial.  I loved the humor and the winking and the accents.  Quinn, my 11-year-old, has the life goal of acquiring an accent.  Maybe it should be Irish....

My first full day here I posted about the ceramic thing I saw in the stationary store that said, "Anything Can Happen Today."  Lots of amazing, beautiful things happened on my trip.  I loved, loved my time here and my varied experiences.
In Dublin, I happen to walk by the National Library of Ireland, in a regal complex right next to the Parliament buildings.  There was a huge hanging banner outside that said, "What will you find today?"  A terrific marketing motto for the library, and a terrific outlook to carry into daily life.  I will take that home to my boys...

English food. I can't stop eating....

Mushy peas, spotted dick, blood sausage, bangers and mash.   The names don't conjure up images  of gastric delight to most Americans, or maybe to most tourists in general.  Great Britain is not known for its food--well, it is known for the funny names of its food--but not for its deliciousness.  Actually, Britain is famous for poor, bland food.  Researching a trip to Chile four years ago, I was warned it was the England of Latin America--every meal a bland piece of meat, a pile of white rice or boiled potatoes, and a bread so nondescript, it defies description.




Happily, the food here has been a surprising treat.  London is not living up to its reputation for plain and soggy food.  We are eating so well, I don't want to go back to Arizona food.  One huge reason is the astounding selection of food--the diversity in London stuns me everyday.  I am not at all used to seeing Iranian, Turkish, Japanese, and Indian food at all, let alone on the same block as a Proper Burger restaurant (best green olives I have ever had) and a Fish and Chips place.  In the Brick Lane Market in the East End, there is a food court that has food stalls from 29 different countries.  Astounding.  I had Moroccan food for the first time.  The options, the options.  Tapas, sushi, pizza, falafel...is this heaven?  No, it's London.

One trend here I see daily is the propensity of people to pop into a take-away place or a market and buy a lunch to go, often eating it outside in a park (really common right now since the weather is so hot and most places don't have A/C, it's more pleasant outside in the shade than indoors).  It surprised me at first that places charge one price for take-away and another to eat-in.  I discovered the reason is that on eat-in food, the restaurant is required to collect the 20% sales tax, take-away is exempt.  Since buying food to go is so popular, the choices, even just at the local grocery store deli, are amazing.  I have seen prawns with sauce, baguette sandwiches of every variety imaginable, couscous with feta, and my personal favorite I have been packing for our field trips, tuna, corn and pasta salad.

Cucumber sandwiches, peppery eggs salad, papaya tarts, and my favorite--scones with clotted cream were on three-story serving trays at high tea Tuesday.  We had real china at the Orangery next to Kensington Palace (the TV news vans were out in full-force covering the birth of William and Kate's baby).  It was really too hot to drink tea--at least in my humble opinion--I guess some people think hot drinks make you feel cool.  I just don't see it.  Give me iced tea in 90 degree weather anytime.  But, it was a blast to laugh over having one lump or two and to split all the treats so we could taste each one.  I got a lot of grief over finishing everyone's clotted cream, but it was just so good...

One night in Dublin...

This sounds like the start of a joke, but it is actually what I am doing today, spending one night in Dublin.  At the beginning of the July, I thought it was ridiculous to go all the way to Dublin on the last Friday and Saturday of my time in London--but a few days ago, it seemed perfectly logical.  After all, it is only a 1 hour flight, and when is the last time I was in three countries in one week (never).  So here I am.

Admittedly, I didn't have much in the way of expectations.  I hadn't planned on coming until a couple of days ago, so didn't research.  And, I didn't think it would be much different from London.  But, just a few hours in, I really like it.  I have been called mate, dear, and love already today.  Squeal!  I am enamored with that.

It was raining when I got here, but beautifully sunny when I got lost and was wondering around the city centre, taking in the sights.  Overall, its a bit grittier and a bit more real than London.  The first think I saw was a guy throwing up into the gutter.  There are all kinds of fake Chanel handbag stalls and electronic stores where they "unlock your phone"  right downtown in the tourist center. There are also lots of chain stores coming in.  I found a public library with free wifi in one of the new mall-type complexes.

The library was very welcoming, which hasn't been my experience with other libraries on my trip.  Welcoming and well-used, it took me a few minutes to find a seat where I could sit down and connect my laptop in order to set my meet-up plans with my lobster (see previous post).  That done, I wondered around a bit, impressed by the diversity of patrons and services.  There was a children's section, computers, a display on local music festivals, and a photography exhibit on the use of prams as carts for traders throughout Dublin's recent past.  I am hoping to run into one, now that I know about them and see it for myself.  There was also a very large music section in the library, full of patrons listening to selections on headphones and checking our cds--and, there were two piano keyboards with music stands and headphones, and signs saying,  "Learn to play the piano here."  And both of the pianos had adult patrons, wearing headphones and practicing!!

I left and wandered around the centre a bit--though it was touristy, it was also packed with locals, out shopping or walking.  It meandered down some alleys and crossed a lovely iron bridge, under an arch and ended up in Temple Bar.  Now, one person told me to stay out of Temple Bar and one told me to make sure and go to Temple Bar.  It is basically an area of shops and, mostly, bars--lots of people even at 2:00 o'clock,  and lots of street performers.  It was great!
I stopped at a pub, it was full of drunk Irishmen on their way out, so I figured it was authentic.  I sat at the bar and a bartender with a lovely accent served me steak and fried potatoes while a young man played folk music on an acoustic guitar.  I just kept thinking how lucky it was that I took a chance and came to Dublin for one night.

Mixing It Up With FSU Study Abroad Programs--Group Video Project

My Lobster Flatmate

Lucky only scratches the surface of how I feel about my flatmates.  Back I Arizona last month, I had a mini-panic attack when It occurred to me that I could get stuck in a room with someone who had the TV on all day.  Yes, constant TV was my worst fear, having not watched any for about 12 years.  But now I realize I could have got stuck with flatmates who had way worse issues than TV addictions.  But, I didn't, I got flatmates I love, especially my roommate who I share a bedroom with, Melissa.  My lobster flatmate.

Melissa, Keila, Katie, Me, Hillary

Apparently, being someone's lobster comes from the show Friends--Phoebe talks about how lobsters stick together for life and says Ross and Rachel are one another's lobsters.  Melissa has a house on Cape Cod, and therefore a thing for lobsters.  She also has a boyfriend lobster.  But, as she says multiple times each day, I am her roommate lobster.
Woot! Lucky me.  

Paris.  Oh Paris.

Melissa is a total crack-up, she keeps me laughing all day.  We go to bed about the same time, and she's a hard sleeper, so I don't have to feel guilty about waking her up when I hop out of bed at 5:30 a.m.  We eat out together a lot--it's easy because we both like steak and Pimm's, although we've had fantastic Indian food.  She's converted me to afternoon iced coffee, and I've converted her to Zumba.  Not really.  She won't budge on the Zumba, citing 84 left feet and claiming to pose a danger to others.  Melissa also claims to be the whitest person on earth, but can't really be because her iPod has Jay-Z doing the dirtiest song I have ever heard.

I thought the making of Harry Potter was an amusement park.
It's not really, so we pretending the bus was a roller coaster. 

Melissa andI have really been looking forward to today--we've planned all week to go to Harrods and then back to Camden Locks Market to get fish pedicures.  Melissa had seen this there and was excited to go back, I said I was up for a new experience.

Harrods was fantastic--five floors of designer/luxury goods, from Tiffany engagement rings (one of us tried some on) to 700 pound scarfs, to caviar counters and stacks of pastries.  The center of the store has amazing Egyptian columns and gilded escalators.  I bought presents for the boys in the Qatar section, note books and t-shirts in Arabic (they were 80% off).  The savings on souvenirs was more than spent in the Steakhouse on the food galleries, where they cut the steak to our specifications, grilled it in front of us and served it with creamed spinach, mashed potatoes, gravy, and béarnaise sauce.  Totally worth the pounds (both ways).

So Harrod's was great.  Fish pedicure, not so much.  My lobster really steered me wrong on this one.  I imagine a tranquil pool of water with four goldfish gently caressing my feet.  Instead, it was like an attack of piranhas in a feeding frenzy.  Relaxing fish exfoliating massage, my foot.  It was like torture--a wriggling mass all over my feet--in between the toes was the worst.  I really tried to man up and continue, and after the initial pull-out I did put them back in for a few minutes, but it was intensely awful.  I bailed, but Melissa stayed in for the long haul.  We both agreed we never, ever needed to do that again.

Tomorrow, my lobster and I are off to Dublin for a two-day dip into Ireland.  It was Melissa's idea, but I am going to give her the benefit of the doubt--nothing can be as bad as a fish pedicure.

London's Vibrant East End

Go Team Harry Potter!

I didn't get sorted today (though we all know it would have been Gryffindor) but I did get to walk through the same doors that Harry had to when he entered the Great Hall for the first time.  The Making  of Harry Potter experience was not what I expected--I thought it was going to be more of an amusement park--but is is actually an amped-up behind the scenes look at the movie-making magic that went into the production of the blockbusters.

The Harry Potter fans were out in full force.  Many of my classmates were plain giddy as we walked in. There were grown woman in Hogwarts robes waiting in line.  It was a lot like Disney World, just without the rides.  But, unlike Disney, the complicated props, sets, and costumes weren't built to last and serve hoards of tourists every year--they were made temporary tools to make a motion picture.  It is a complicated process, and I really gained an appreciation for the insane amount of detail that went into the physical construction of the set.

 The simulated planning studio was one of my favorite displays, showing the complicated drawings produced as blueprints for the props after the ideas are formulated.  From artist's conception, to rendering in pen and ink, to scale mock-ups, and then to actual props, it was an inspiring look at what craftspeople and artists can accomplish when the are part of a team.  I walked through the Ollivander's Wand Shop, and, true to the detail of the entire studio sets, each and every box was hand-decorated.  On the over 4,000 boxes was the name of one on the people who were on the production of the movies.  It was quite the tribute to the team who worked so hard to make something that is now such a part of our world-wide culture.

Hagrid's hut (scaffolding in the back).

Squeal! Alan Rickman's wig.

Joie de Vivre! Part Deux.

Paris.

The first twelve hours (see previous post) were crazy busy, hot, and full of the challenges of traveling with a large group.  It is pretty hard to keep everyone happy, on the same page, and going at the same pace.  Just like at home, with my four boys I often feel like I am herding cats.  Same goes with 16 Master's students.  Everyone has such different personalities and speed.  I am go, go, go.  Most days at home I never sit down once, so I like the fast pace, it drives many of my classmates nuts.  So, it is sometimes a relief for all of us to break out on our own or in little groups.

Most of us who stayed in Paris--some went back to London early--met up at the famous Cafe de Flor, which was only two blocks from my aunt's excellent flat I was pretending was my home in Paris.  Cafe de Flor has hosted all kinds of famous people, from Earnest Hemingway to F. Scott Fitzgerald, to Kanye West--who our adorable waiter said tips well but won't acknowledge the servers.  We had a total French cafe experience--winky waiter in black pants, vest, bow-tie and long white apron who brought us toasted baguettes, cafe americano, and the butter of the gods.  I like butter. A lot.  A whole lot.  And this French butter was like manna, I will never be satisfied with any other again.  Maybe I will have to learn to churn my own from some French farm women, because I doubt I can get it Fedex-ed to me in Arizona.

Splitting off into groups, my friend Katie (the only one who speaks French) and I decided to wonder around towards the other side of Notre Dame, which is the atmospheric gay neighborhood.   I am not sure we actually ever found it, but we did have fun wondering around the streets, shopping a bit and having a wonderful steak and fried potato lunch.

Parisian Street Art

We were on the lookout for heels for Katie, since four of us decided to go had decided to out dancing.  The breakfast waiter obviously got around a lot, and he wrote down the names and addresses of four clubs for us.  I invited Pierre to go along, and happily he said yes.  So, after spending the day being Parisian and buying wine, cheese, butter, ham, and olives, we met back at "my place" and did the cocktail hour thing.  It was lovely to sit around, eat and drink wine and chat.

Melissa was dying to see the Eiffel tower at night--it is illuminated and it has twinkle lights for five minutes each hour.  Pierre walked us down to a bridge to see it, but since we didn't have a great view at the 11:00 twinkle, he decided we needed to see it up closer.

Pierre learned how to drive in Paris, and it shows.  I had to close my eyes sometimes, but he was never phased, even has we were all singing along to old-school rap while navigating the infamous round about which all Parisian teens must drive through in order to earn their driver's license. He pulled over and we frantically jumped out just as the midnight twinkle was twinkling.  Beyond beautiful, beyond expectations.

And then we went to the club.  Whoa.  Pierre loves to dance and goes out, but he had never even heard of this club and didn't really think it was going to be there--right in the touristy Latin District.  But Latin as in the dead language Latin, which scholars studied in around here for hundreds of years.  Conversely, we ended up at Latino night (Zapotec Latino Papa!!) at a club called Le Saint.  Yes, I was one of the five white people there.  Miguel said, "Finally, I am with some other brown people."  It was all in Spanish--salsa, merengue, reggaeton, cumbers, and a little samba.  It was like being in Zumba class.  Dancing non-stop while sweat was dripping off me.  I don't know how Pierre and Miguel managed, with dress shirts, jeans, socks on.  I was wearing significantly less in the underground stone catacombs-esque club and I was melting.  But it was oh so fun.  I could have gone until they closed (at 7:00 a.m.) but the twenty-year-olds were giving out, so we left a bit before four.

The Sunday was the first day since leaving Arizona that I have actually relaxed and just chilled.  Actually, chilled is not too accurate, since it was an intense heat wave, I was on the fourth floor, and there was no A/C.  I took multiple cool showers and relished in that!

Two of the four towers of the National Library.

Pierre collected me and showed me the immense, modern National Library of France and then we ended the perfect weekend in Paris with a lovely, leisurely two-hour cafe lunch.

Ahh! Paris.....joie de vivre.

Joie de Vivre! Part Un.

Paris.

Paris from the second level of the Eiffel Tower.

 I think I am running out of adjectives to describe how much fun I am having.  People are getting slightly tired of hearing about what a fabulous time I am having.  But
 I am having a fabulous time.  I do not understand how you can be surrounded by such culture and life and such je ne se quuae and not have a fabulous time.  I bask in the differentness, I want to be out of my comfort zone.  Sometimes I think, even with difficult challenges, "I got to experience this--now I know what this part of life is like."  Having cancer, my dad dying when I was five, heartbreak--I have first-hand experience of those things--and an joined in commonality with humanity.  So, I do relish even the "negative" parts of life because those make us more human and more able to glory in the positive.  Some of my classmates were overwhelmed by the negative in Paris (seeing a pickpocketing, the heat, squeezing into a crowed metro train) but I loved every part of the journey.

We took the 5:40 a.m. train to Paris, so I traveled through the Chunnel! I expected the Chunnel to be decorated or special somehow, but it is just a plan tunnel like any other you pass through on the train.  It takes a bit over two hours to travel from London to Paris.  The station in Paris started the morning off on the wrong foot--everyone got a scary warning about pick-pockets and then we saw some teenagers nick a tourist's wallet and run off.  Then, I think the lowlight of the trip was trying to squeeze all 17 of us into an already full metro train headed to the Louvre.  It really put people off.  I was thinking, at least they don't have workers pushing you in to fill it up beyond capacity like I have heard about in other places.

Off to the Louvre, where Pitbull showed up, making my time there enjoyable.  As much as I love museums and art, the Louvre is really hard for me to get any pleasure out of.  The crowds are intense, it is super hard to navigate, the displays signage isn't especially user-friendly.  So I had coffee and an apple tart, showed my friends how to find the Mona Lisa, and bugged out to walk around the adjoining gardens.  Ahhh!  Plus, I got to see police officers on roller blades! Totally cool.  Since I had to drop out of roller derby, maybe I can be a rollerblade cop.

Favorite Louve display. Me doing laundry.

Melissa, best roomie evah!

We walked from the Louvre to a little bakery that was rated #1 baguettes in all of Paris, bought yummy sandwiches, that just happened to come with pastries, and then ate them on the grass in front of the Eiffel Tower.  Woot!  Eatin' sandwiches by the Eiffel Tower.  I held roomie Melissa's hand as we went up to the 2nd floor, but she ended up doing just fine with her fear of heights.  I have been up twice before, but just at night.  It is beautiful at night, but in the day, it is amazing.  You can see for miles and miles.  Unreal. Not one of those things that doesn't meet your expectations at all.

Boat ride down Seine.

Leaving the tower, we had a bit of a challenge, the metro wasn't working and we had trouble navigating the alternate bus to the Seine.  Finally made it to the River Cruise, and it was a joy to get on the upper deck of the boat and feel the coolness of the water as we had the river view of some of the most famous sights in Paris, accompanied by some of the newest, like pocket parks installed just last month along the banks and "beaches" which opened this weekend to Parisians anxious to lay out on trucked-in sand.  Our professor and her jovial husband brought along champagne, and we all toasted being in Paris.

Plages of Paris...yes, please.

From the banks of the river, it was a short walk to an insanely fun restaurant where the guitar player kept kissing me and yelling my name out.  It was a campy, touristy place with escargot and pate, because we expected escargot and pate, but the company and the jocularity of the musicians made it an unforgettable night.  The absolute highlight of the entire weekend was when they got Miguel to stand up and sing La Bomba. Okay, so he sang so well that the guy jokingly handed over the guitar, and then Miguel proceeded to play the guitar and sing.  The whole restaurant roared with applause.  When he sat down, he told us he was just faking the guitar-playing! It had looked so real...

With Pierre at the Eiffel Tower...read tomorrow's post!

I left the others then and met up with my cousins, Pierre and Michael, who I hadn't seen since 1984.  Yeah, that's right, almost 30 years.  He is from Paris, and his parents have an apartment there, which, to my great pleasure, they let me stay in.  Pierre and Mike were waiting for me at St. Germaine de Pres church, right in the center of town and just two blocks from the lovely apartment.  Up four flights of stairs, but totally incredible.  Such a treat to have family and a cool place to stay!  They got me settled and then took me for drinks on a famous cafe street close by.  The places were packed and we were squeezed between other groups, the conversation beginning about the differences in "personal space" between France and the states! Living it!  And then, we had crepes....

So much happened in Paris that I will continue my weekend story tomorrow---check back to read about dancing until 4 a.m., the butter, bread, wine...did I mention the butter?

Loving Life in London

Duck sandwich.  Oh, yeah, baby.  I could get used to lunch hour in Borough Market!  Imagine a giant farmer's market right at the base of the London Bridge filled with the most unbelievable assortment of gourmet foods imaginable (truffles, drunken cheese, fresh oysters, goat cheese made by fourth generation goat farmers in Bath).

Duck is my favorite food.  Ever.  And there was a stall where a nice man had a meter-wide skillet full of sautéing duck.  He scooped up a generous amount, with delicious crispy bits, and lovingly tucked it into a ciabatta roll with a little watercress.  Hmmm.  I felt so refined walking around eating duck in a open-air market.  And then I scored!  I actually found a place that had iced tea.  In the States, especially in the hot states, iced tea is ubiquitous.  In Texas, you can buy it by the gallon--always with the question, "Sweet or unsweet?"  Here, forget sweet or unsweet, they don't even know what you are talking about when you order ice tea.  This was a find, never mind that this iced tea didn't actually have ice in it.  It was resting in a bucket of ice, so by British standards, was pretty frosty.

The Borough Market is about the eighth market I have been to in London since last Tuesday.  I love the markets!  I did an amazing tour of the East End Markets on Sunday, with the Alternative London walking tour company.  I haven't posted on that yet since I am doing a multimedia digital story project on the East End.   I am really excited to share my pictures and some of its fascinating history on my blog.  Those markets were a bit grittier, and filled with more real Londoners than the Borough Market.  This was about half-and-half, I would say.  Lots of men in suits buying their lunch and lots of fresh grocery vendors operating--and they don't cater to tourists in hotels, they are selling regular folks food to cook for dinner.

As we left the market to take the tube home, we happened upon a very large protest march making its way down the street.  Having seen big protests Chile and in Paris, I wanted to see how it was handled in London.  In Chile, government workers were demonstrating to keep their benefits.  It was chilling, partly because I was aware of the Pinochet dictatorship's legacy there, but the police and army were out en masse with tanks, machine guns, masked officers and German Shepards in bullet-proof vests.  

In Paris, the demonstrators were angry and had microphones, shouting and waving thier fists.  There were police stationed at the corners, about a block away, but ready if the crowd got rowdy.  I was so curious to see what the protest was for--at it turned out to be in support of PETA and animal rights.  This protest was very orderly, there was a route planned out and taped off down the very busy street.  There were armored trucks following the marchers and a police vehicle leading them, clearing a path.  But, it was also a very orderly bunch--firefighters, and their supporters from all around who were asking the government not to close down their local stations.     

We also toured the Tower of London and saw the Crown Jewels, but that was not the highlight of my day.  I realize that the regular "tourist attractions" hold little appeal for me, but I love being part of the daily life of a place.  I walked across the Thames today--the sun was shining and people were everywhere, and I was just so smiley.  I kept thinking, "The world amazes me.  I love life!"