Day Three: November 21 We started the day with breakfast, which is included at our hotel. We discovered that breakfast = toast, so I made some oatmeal and peanut butter that I packed, added some orange juice, tea, and a plum and we were on our way. If you ever travel with me, expect a lot of snacks in my suitcase.
We hit up Kensington since we are staying in that neighborhood and since I know it the best from my last visit the summer after I graduated from college. We toured Kensington Palace and our takeaway was that those royal men were short! With the exception of Princess Diana, it was a family of shorties. The dresses were fun to look at and it was a history nerd’s dream. Prince Albert died when he was 42 and he left nine kids behind.
Next we frolicked through Hyde Park and I harassed the swans, aka tried to be their friend. Then we went to Harrod’s and spent the day combatting crowds and trying to figure out what our families would like for souvenirs. I got a Harrod’s dog dish for Winston, an apron and oven mitt, mugs and vinyl bags for my mom.
We ate at Paul’s, which my BFF sadly informed me that they have Paul’s in DC. Nonetheless, my tuna nicose and pellagrino were good and I felt very French. We found a Laurdee’s next to Harrod’s and I bought a box for my birthday treat. For dinner we wandered to Picadilly and ate at the first pub we saw. The food was mediocre and reminded me that my love for the occasional burger has not been mastered in the UK. It was well done and dry. I ate it and sucked up my pride like any good tourist. Although, the chips (fries) were the best we have had so far.
We also found the iconic Liberty of London, explored, and then realized everything was too expensive. Even a headband was 20 pounds. The floral patterns are classics and if my mom had been here, I would have stocked up on the fabric (they sell it by the yard) and had her make me a skirt. Fun fact: my fifth grade teacher called me Liberty and Justice for all, which I liked as the patriotic kid that I am.
We ended the night with a tube ride and a French Malbec (who knew it could be from someplace other than Argentina?) at the Troubadour.
Overheard in London today:
“There are beaches in California.”
“I just want a normal friend.”
“Make scones, not bombs.”
“Oh he’s cute, he would work. You don’t want to end up with a cab driver.” – 24 year old next to us at lunch discussing her romantic prospects.