I arrived in London a month ago today! It was market morning at Petticoat Lane and Brick Lane, and my favourite, the Sunday Upmarket. There were a lot more stalls in Petticoat Lane than when Gord and I were there a couple of weeks ago, and Cathy and I found Tubby Isaacs seafood stall where we tried a cold seafood sampling of mussels, cockles, and something else that was like a big mussel. These mussel-like things were too large to eat in one biteful, unfortunately, because, when I took a bite out of one, the remaining piece displayed this pseudopod, or foot-like thing, which I just couldn't manage to eat. We had a good laugh over it many times during the day, but I guess you had to be there.

Found many nice things, some jewelry, and some Sindhi quilts, but I only bought one small thing for someone who will remain nameless at this time. Cathy found a nice piece of artwork. We tried some Tunisian mint tea which was delicious and which I will try to replicate at home. We also shared a plate of Ethiopian vegetarian food, also delicious.

Then we went to the British Museum where we did the audio highlights tour. This museum is so huge that when we would find the room in which a particular item from the audio tour was located, we had trouble finding the actual item in the room. They told us it was a treasure hunt, but we wasted many valuable minutes trying to actually find the items. When the museum was closing at 5:30, I returned the audio guides and mentioned that it had been difficult to locate all of the artworks. I found out that the audio guide kiosk is independent, i.e., not run by the museum, and one of the people there said that they had tried the audioguide and found it difficult too; they also explained that the museum only allows them to display the audio guide logo very inconspicuously. But they did write on our receipt that we could come back tomorrow to finish the tour which was nice. Still love those Elgin Marbles.

We decided to take a bus home instead of the subway. That was a big mistake. We waited 40 minutes for our bus which was supposed to come every 12 minutes on Sundays and then the bus driver stopped the bus half way home and made everyone get off because it was not going any further (never did find out why). So we waited another while for a different bus that we could take that would get us a little further home, got off that one and took yet a third bus. We finally arrived home after 1-1/2 hours, tired and hungry. We knew that we had surpassed our 6.7 miles of the other day, but when Cathy checked the pedometer it was not on, so we couldn't tell. I'm sure it was 9 or 10 miles. That must mean we burned 400 calories. Wow.

Evensong, by the way, is a service of evening prayers and psalms, "conducted according to a set form, especially that of the Anglican Church" according to our dictionary. The nice thing about the evensong at St. Paul's yesterday was the wonderful choir made up of men and young boys, some of whom looked no older than seven.

Today we took the tube out to Heathrow Airport where we had booked a "hire car." We braved Gord's driving and went in search of stone circles. First we went to Avebury, a little village with a church and a manor, and surrounded by a huge complex that includes a great stone circle or "henge," a deep ditch and high bank, and groups of large stones. Nearby are ancient communal burial grounds or barrows. Grazing among the stones were many sheep, and consequently it was difficult to step anywhere without coming into contact with the sheep droppings that were literally everywhere, forming their own circles. We had lunch at The Red Lion, located in the middle of the circle. The pub is 400 years old and is one of the top ten most haunted pubs in the country. The main ghost is that of Florrie, who was killed here by her husband and thrown down a well. The well is inside the pub, covered with plexiglas (or perspex as they say here) so that you can peer down it, and functions as a table at which you can eat. They have a few rooms where you can spend the night and apparently they lock you in!

From there we drove to Stonehenge. We went late in the afternoon to avoid the crowds, which worked out quite well. The complimentary audio guides were good. It is just amazing how they transported these huge stones 4,500 years ago to map the course of the sun and the moon for some purpose on which we can only speculate. The larger stones are Sarsen stones brought from the Marlborough Downs 19 miles away and the smaller ones, Bluestones, are from Wales, 240 miles away. Incredible.

St. Paul's Cathedral was going to be one of the venues for the day, but ended up being the only one. We arrived just in time for a guided tour which took us to areas of the cathedral open only to visitors paying for the tour--for example, the Geometric Staircase (seen in movies including one Harry Potter film). We learned about the two large bells, Tom and Paul, in the clock tower. Tom rings on the hour and Paul only sounds at 1 PM daily. We just missed hearing "him" so we may have to go back. We learned all about Christopher Wren, and how it took 35 years to build the cathedral (making Wren one of the few cathedral architects to see his work completed) but it took 60 years to build the Wellington Monument inside. Our docent also told us about how a group of people took turns staying in the cathedral during the London Blitz, to put out any fires from the bombings, thereby saving it from destruction. We also learned how Queen Victoria had the beautiful mosaics added to the nave. We went through the American Memorial Chapel and then on to the famous painting Light of the World by William Holman Hunt. We saw the tombs of Christopher Wren, Lord Leighton, Turner, Millais, Admiral Nelson (laid to rest in a tomb that was originally meant for someone else), General Wellington, and monuments to Florence Nightingale, John Donne, Winston Churchill, to name only a few. We saw the replica of the original Gothic cathedral that was destroyed in the 1666 fire. After the tour we stopped in the Crypt Cafe to share a sandwich and then looked in the shop, but when we went to walk up the steps into the Dome, we discovered it was closed for the day. They marked our tickets so that we could reenter another day. It was almost time for Evensong so we decided to stay for that. We sat in the Mayor's seat in the Choir (or Quire) with its beautifully carved wood, with many carved cherubs, each one modeled after a different child so each has a unique face.

Met Gord for Indian food in Soho after walking partway across the Millenium Bridge for a nice view of the Thames as well as St. Paul's. Came home to plan for tomorrow's big day--visiting two famous stone circles.

Rain, rain, go away.

So I think I figured out what I want to be when I grow up. I want to work for the Queen and be the Keeper of the Privy Purse. Isn't that a great title? (The dictionary defines privy purse as an allowance from the public revenue for the monarch's private expenses.) Or better yet, I could open a pub and call it The Privy Purse. (What do you think, K, L, and L? Could that be our business? Tea room by day, pub by night?)

Gord took Cathy and me on a sixties-themed walking tour, sort of a dry run for a class he will be "guest teaching" next month. It's a class on Youth Culture (or "youf" culture as some people say--you can pronounce "th" as an "f" or a "v", as in somefing or bruvver). Anyway, his class will be on the music industry in the sixties. We started out at Abbey Road Studios out in St. John's Wood. That's also where the Beatles were photographed walking across the zebra crossing for their Abbey Road album. Gord was going to take a picture of Cathy and me crossing it, just like every other tourist who ventures up there, but unfortunately (or fortunately) I had neglected to bring my camera today. The walking tour continued on to Soho, past recording studios and coffee shops where musicians hung out, past clubs and the London Palladium.

After a late lunch at Belgo (again), we walked to the National Portrait Gallery and spent three wonderful hours, mostly on the top floor, looking at portraits and learning more British history through the audio guides. I'll have to go back to see the rest of it. I was looking for a particular photograph of some man whose name I couldn't remember that my daughter had copied when we were here in 1996, but I couldn't find it. They have redone the foyer of the museum since we were here last and there is now a long escalator that takes you up to the top floor.

There was no time for dinner, nor were we hungry, before we had to get to the Theatre Royal Haymarket to see The Country Wife. This comedy by William Wycherley was first performed in 1675, but by 1753 it was considered too morally offensive to be performed in its original version. It wasn't performed again in its unedited form until 1924. Since then the title character has been performed by Joan Plowright, Judi Dench, Maggie Smith, and Helen Mirren. (There is no Playbill here filled with advertising, so you must purchase a program if you want one. What I like about them is that they give you a history of the play and its performances--and this one had wonderful photographs. What I don't like is having to pay, this time 4 pounds, but I do understand why.) Anyway, I thought the play was great, and surprisingly risque for having been written in the 17th century. Tonight was the first night of the previews so there were a couple of glitches and line stumbles, but not many. I loved the set design--I'm always amazed at how they conceptualize it. There were many scene changes and cleverly done. The acting was good, with the title character seeming to pull off a decent Yorkshire accent (but what do I know?). The theatre itself is beautiful.

Pedometer reading for the day: 17,658 steps taken; 6.7 miles walked; 383 calories burned.

Cathy and I went down to see the changing of the guard ceremony. We had read that the best place to see the action was either at the nearby St. James's Palace or the Wellington Barracks. So we went to St. James's and watched the band play before escorting the guards down to Buckingham Palace where they met up with the guards from the Barracks. We followed them and then joined the mobs at the gates. I couldn't help but fall into step with the wonderful music, very traditional marching kind of pageantry music. But once they got inside the palace gates and played a few more songs, suddenly they started playing Abba, specifically Dancing Queen!!! And after that they played A Groovy Kind of Love by the Mindbenders. And if that wasn't a mindbending experience I don't know what was! Then after they got that out of their systems, they went back to the serious stuff.

We toured the state apartments that Gord and I had done last week. The tickets we had purchased were good for unlimited visits with photo ID. The woman at the desk was very nice and offered to let Cathy in on Gord's ticket, saving her 15 pounds.

Got home in time to make dinner for three of the students who loved the comfort food of roast chicken, macaroni and cheese, caesar salad, and slow-roasted tomatoes (and of course a fresh raspberries on custard pie from downstairs). Most of them are really not eating very well as they are responsible for buying or cooking their own meals. They are living on ramen, canned soup, and other simple items. In fact they claim not to have had a real meal since they got here. I had made twice as much macaroni, so sent them back to the dorm with the leftovers.

There are often problems with the subway lines, where some will not be running due to switching problems, an object on the track, weekend construction, delays for whatever reason. As frustrating as it can be they are always clear about relaying this information. There are boards at every station listing each line and its status, either good service or no service, long delays, etc. And someone will come on the loudspeaker with the same information and suggested options in travel, if necessary. On the way to the play yesterday, it was announced very matter-of-factly that the Victoria line was down because of a person under a train. People carried on as usual. But what else could one do? We were nowhere near the Victoria line. We were merely being told in case we were planning on transferring to the Victoria line. But did we need to know the cause? Would it have been enough to know it was not in service at this time? We will probably never know what happened to the person.

Today Cathy and I visited the London Silver Vaults below the city on Chancery Lane, with store after store of antique and some not-so-antique silver of all kinds. We were intrigued with the jewelry, especially these silver Victorian stamp containers. Just large enough to hold a stamp or two, they were worn as pendants, back in the day when people actually wrote letters! Some looked like tiny envelopes with a top flap that opened. Some had the word "STAMP" printed across the front. Only the prices deterred us from making any purchases. I did see a beautiful ring that fit my finger perfectly. Oh well. I've acquired enough beautiful rings of late.

We left there to partake of afternoon tea at The Orangery at Kensington Palace. We shared one fancy tea, the one that came with a glass of champagne, and ordered an extra pot of tea on the side. It was perfect. One person probably couldn't and definitely shouldn't indulge in the whole three tiers--one for finger sandwiches, one for scones, and the top for the little cakes. I have always wanted to do the high tea thing. But the timing never seemed right. Is one supposed to have dinner after this? Well, we skipped lunch, had tea at 3:00 and still had dinner.

We met this cute little man in Kensington Gardens who was feeding the squirrels. It was obvious that this was a regular pastime of his. They were crawling all over him, up on his shoulders, up his legs. I found it fascinating and Cathy thought it creepy--after all they are rodents. He was talking about Dieppe and Normandy and what happened to the Canadians and how most kids nowadays don't know about it (I'm not sure that he was talking about us as though we were kids, but I'll take what I can get). He also talked about one of the squirrels, the one guarding his pack of nuts, and how she is mean to the other squirrels if they come too near. The other squirrels keep a safe distance from her. Anyway, because of her behavior he calls her Camilla Parker Bowles!

Close by, within the park, there was a beautiful flower garden being tended to by a couple of royal gardeners. The public was not allowed inside because, as one of the gardeners said, people will steal the flowers and then it won't be so nice. We thought it was like the Secret Garden.

We walked up Kensington Church Street and back down, looking in all of the antique stores there. One of them had a couple of modern replicas of those stamp pendants, at a much more affordable price. But again, no purchases. There were two charity shops that we looked in as well because I had heard that they are good places to shop. Not this time, however.

Went home whereupon Gord and I left to do the shopping for tomorrow's student dinner. Picked up Cathy and walked to the Elephant and Castle for fish and chips and a pint. Cathy's pedometer indicated that we had walked just under five miles today. But the bad news? We burned only 286 calories. I know that those things are not totally accurate but how can that be? It's a good thing we shared the afternoon tea.

(Okay Katie, you wanted a picture of us. Here it is.)

Our first house guest has arrived! Cathy C. was able to get a flight at the last minute and will relive her trip of 30+ years ago. There wasn't much time to do anything except have some tea, walk over to Kensington Gardens for a bit, and then hit the Marks and Spencer for provisions.

Gord and I had tickets to see The Merchant of Venice at Shakespeare's Globe so we left Cathy to sleep off the jet lag. It was wonderful to see Shakespeare performed in that setting (and performed so well) although I was wishing I had worn warmer clothes. At least the heavy rain of early this morning had turned into a clear but crisp night. It brought me back to my ninth grade English class and my teacher Mr. McCarroll, who also directed all of the school plays of which I played no part (literally). I only mention that last part because he conducted his classes in the same animated way he directed the plays. I must have been animated in that class too, because it was the only class I've ever been kicked out of (but that's another story).

We walked across the Thames via the Millenium Bridge to catch the Underground home. The bridges over the water were beautifully lit.

We caught the 8:00 train to Bath Spa, but the normally 90-minute journey took 2-1/2 hours because they were doing some work on the tracks and we had to take a bus from the Swindon train station--one of the disadvantages of traveling on a weekend apparently. We had to wait on the bus about ten minutes before we left Swindon, with the motor running, exhaust fumes filling the air, and the radio playing George Michael's Careless Whisper on the British equivalent of Casey Kasem's Top 40 show. Fortunately the noise of the bus drowned out the sound of the radio and we were in Bath about an hour later.

We just missed the 10:30 walking tour, but were able to catch the 11:00 Jane Austen one led by knowledgeable and entertaining Glyn. His "West Country" accent was immediately apparent, quite different from anything we had heard in London. Bath is a beautiful city, with its signature Georgian buildings in yellow limestone. We learned how Jane Austen disliked the city (as did Queen Victoria who apparently, on her only visit to the city at the age of eleven, overheard some disparaging remarks about her ankles and vowed never to visit the city again). But two of Jane's novels are set in Bath (Persuasion and Northanger Abbey) and the city has claimed her as their own, although she only lived there eight years. Glyn pointed out different places that were mentioned in these novels and gave us an idea of what life was like in Bath in the late 1700s to early 1800s. Although the hot springs were what drew people to the area, for their suspected healing properties, the 2,000-year-old Roman baths were not uncovered until the late nineteenth century. We caught the first half of the 2:00 walking tour where we learned about architect John Wood and about Beau Nash (until it started overlapping with the previous tour) and then visited the rather disappointing Jane Austen Centre. Finally we spent about two hours in the Roman baths, listening to audio guides and catching yet another, shorter tour by another lively docent. The rain throughout most of the afternoon did not dampen our spirits, but I must say that we were glad to catch an earlier train home, the sooner to rest our weary feet. It was a very pleasant but long day.

I'm excited to reread the novels of one of my favorite authors. I think I'll start with her last two, those set in Bath. But first I'll finish the books from my latest visit to the library.

Reading: Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit, by Jeanette Winterson

The lesson for today was "What is a constitutional monarchy?" Gord and I took a tour of the Palace of Westminster/Houses of Parliament, led by a very entertaining docent. We learned about Gothic revival architecture and the young 23-year-old designer Augustus Welby Northmore Pugin who was selected by the architect Sir Charles Barry to do the interior design of the new buildings after the original Palace was destroyed by fire in 1834. (My designing daughter who just happens to be 23 might find this particularly interesting, right Katie?) The interior is just amazing, possibly even more so than the exterior, from the floors to the ceilings. We started from Victoria Tower to the Queen's Robing Room, through the Royal Gallery, the Prince's Chamber, the Chamber of the House of Lords, the Central Lobby, House of Commons, Members' Lobby, St. Stephen's Chapel, and Westminster Hall (which survived the fire), all the while learning about how a bill is passed; the Hansard Reporters who document everything that is said each day and have it printed up by early the next morning; the role of the monarch and her once-a-year speech from the elaborate throne in the House of Lords on the first day of the new parliamentary session (November); the ritual of the Black Rod who goes down the long hallway through the Central Lobby to the House of Commons to summon the members of the House of Commons to this speech, only to have the door slammed in his face and not opened until he knocks on it with his staff of office, all this to symbolize their independence. (Now that was a long sentence!) There was a lot more but I'll spare you.

I keep thinking that the days on our roof are coming to an end, but today turned out to be beautiful and I spent an hour up there reading and taking these pictures.

We had planned to go to a free concert to see Amjad Ali Khan at Queen Elizabeth Hall, but we have a big day tomorrow and we decided to pass on it. In case you're wondering, he is a master of Indian classical music who plays the sarod, a type of lute. Correction: In doing this blog I was checking my Time Out magazine and just noticed that this concert was LAST night. It's a good thing we decided not to go tonight after all.

I went to the Victoria Miro Gallery to see an installation by contemporary American artist and MacArthur Fellowship recipient Sarah Sze. Now I don't begin to get it, but it certainly was interesting and fun. She creates these intricate sculptures out of everyday materials: water bottles, push pins, paint sample cards, string, salt, toothpicks, fans, light bulbs, stepladders, the list goes on. Yet some pieces had some aspects of it that were quite simple, like the body of water she created using blue string and part of a plastic water bottle that appeared to be floating on top of it. (I didn't explain that very well and of course I didn't take a photo of it.) There were two floors of her sculpture, with two themes, A Certain Slant and Tilting Planet. The information sheet explains it thus: "In this new body of work Sarah Sze organizes space as if it is a remnant of human behaviour discovered by accident. The formal construction of the pound-store objects as rafts, nests, tents, and escape routes mimics the necessities that emerge from various survival mechanisms and states of refuge. Like an entire ecosystem, these individual objects participate in larger systems of interaction performing a role beyond their commonplace function." So there you have it.

I then met up with Gord and together we went to the Groucho Club and spent a relaxing couple of hours talking with Mitch Murray, a former songwriter whom Gord had interviewed for his book. One of his daughters plays Killer Queen in the musical We Will Rock You; it would be interesting to see her perform, but I'm not sure I can stand another musical based on the songs of a rock group (excluding Mama Mia of course!)--I'm thinking of the Billy Joel one, Movin' Out, and the Beach Boys' Good Vibrations. But we'll see.

For dinner, Gord and I ate at a nice restaurant with the not-so-nice name of Ooze (they were listed in this week's Time Out magazine as a runner up in their Best Cheap Eats category). They specialize in risotto (serving about a dozen different varieties) which seems to be one of Gord's favourite dishes these days.

Today I walked over to Kensington Palace. I spent a lot longer than I planned in their special exhibition on Princess Diana (five rooms, lots of video, photographs, interviews with dress designers and photographers, gowns). I don't know why but I was drawn in. The rest of the Palace was interesting--the apartments of King William and Queen Mary, Queen Victoria's bedroom. I also got a sense of our neighbourhood in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, a nice little village outside of London with clean air.

After a dinner of leftovers, we went to see another play, The Enchantment, by Swedish author and playwright Victoria Benedictsson. I love those small, intimate theatres "in the round" where you feel as though you're on stage with the actors (although I think it must be much more difficult for the actors). Not a happy play, especially given its autobiographical aspect (for one thing, the script was found and published after Benedictsson's suicide) , but I thought it was good and well acted for the most part--I wasn't so keen on the lead male though, and I felt there were a few problems in the first half with setting up the hopelessness of the relationship. Curtain calls are much simpler affairs here, no calling people back a second or third time, and, for these plays anyway, all actors (no matter how big their roles) take their bows together.

Reading: Gabriel's Gift by Hanif Kureishi

Okay so I finally succumbed to the temptation of our downstairs bakery. Yesterday, Gord suggested we go downstairs for breakfast. Gord had eggs benedict and I had a nata tart which is a Portuguese pastry, basically egg custard in a little shell. But even worse, we had some of the students over for dinner tonight and we bought a beautiful strawberry tart from downstairs, also with a custard filling. So two days in a row. Not a good trend. I should have taken a photo but now it's too late. :-)

Today I did nothing outside. Once I finished uploading photos from yesterday and doing my blog, there was really not enough time to go out before starting dinner for the students. I think they enjoyed themselves. We walked them to the subway afterward. It had been cold all day; the night was cool but not too bad. Then we stopped in at the Elephant & Castle. I opted for a final gin and tonic of the season instead of a pint. Wouldn't want to get malaria.

The BBC has a documentary series called Storyville and yesterday it happened to be on Thomas Lynch, a poet, essayist, and funeral director from Michigan. My parents and his parents were very close friends, so much so that we called his parents Uncle Ed and Aunt Rosemary. Now I have watched very little television here, but I just happened to look at the listings in my Time Out magazine the night before. How fortuitous!

Today was absolutely wonderful. I went out to Kew Gardens to the Henry Moore installation of twenty-eight of his sculptures. It was perfect sweater weather, a few clouds, crisp fall chill to the air but warm in the sun. I walked for hours, except during the one-hour film, The Art of Henry Moore. This was a nice introduction to the artist, the narration was all in his words about his works. He said he prefers to see his sculptures out in the landscape rather than inside, so I think he would have been happy to see it here. Did you know that he thought the head (of his figures) was the most important part and that's precisely why he made them smaller--to accentuate the other parts? He also apparently spent lots of hours at the Wallace Collection looking at their armor (maybe I'll have to go back and look because I never fully appreciated that part of the museum--or maybe not), and at the Natural History Museum looking at bones, and at the Science Museum for his string pieces. I took about 100 photos (going through two sets of batteries). I've put them online at kodakgallery.com (which took forever to load for some reason and that's why my blog is late). If anyone wants to see them, let me know and I'll add your email address to my viewer list.

For the next six Wednesdays, we are having small groups of students over for dinner. Gord and I shopped in the morning at M&S, but it reminded me of Price Chopper because they didn't have a couple of basic items that were on my list. So when I got back from Kew Gardens Gord met me at Waitrose where we got a couple more things, but they didn't have yellow squash there either so we then had to go to Whole Foods. Whew. That was a lot of work for a simple meal.

Maybe I'm looking at things more critically here, but it seems that there is a lot more waste in regard to packaging in this city. So much of the food, both fresh produce and prepared, comes in plastic containers, or plastic trays with plastic wrap over them. I guess the focus is on easy, ready made meals. You can buy little sets of everything you need for a stew, ready to drop in the water, or for a stir fry, all packaged neatly together. There are also lots of dinners for one or for two with a lot more variety than we get, but with equal amounts of packaging. I just keep thinking of all the garbage this generates. And I used to feel guilty about buying the washed spring mix in its plastic container back home; well multiply that by five or more.

Oh, and those thin women I envied so much? I see many of them buying cigarettes. I guess I wouldn't trade places with them after all.