It’s the little things. The artery clogging little things that make me smile. Just spent a weekend in London with Sug. Arteries are hardened a bit, liver is recovering and my wallet is bare. Note to self: Make sure you have more money than you think you need the next time you go to London. We laughed our arses off. I would have to say that the funniest part of the weekend occurred 15 minutes into our time together. I had arrived at the hotel before Sug (her train was an hour late) and left a note at the check-in desk that I was (surprise surprise) in the bar. I had had just enough time to order a beer, put down my bag and try to get relaxed from my planes, trains and automobiles journey when I heard the unmistakeable sound of an American accent in the corner of the bar. The hotel was a 4 or 5 star hotel that Sug got on the cheap and the hotel bar was one of those giant ceilinged rooms with the mahogany walls and leather sofas. You know, the kind of place that oozes history and posh. The woman in the corner was yelling loudly into her mobile to one of her collegues (Steve) that she didn’t do this and he was responsible for that yadda yadda yadda. I mean LOUD. Loud enough that when Sug arrived and we did the hug hello, I needed to DOWN my beer. Seriously. Sug told me not to worry – having not heard the woman because Steve had obviously gotten a word in edgewise for a minute. Suddenly Beth’s face just froze and her eyes got wide. We started laughing. It only got worse. So, we decided to drop our bags off in the room and head out to have some libations and nosh before Ethel Merman in the corner made our ears bleed. As we were standing and leaving the bar, Beth turns to the woman and says quite directly: “If I were Steve, I would kill myself.” - I almost peed myself laughing. Why is it that the loudest and most discourtious people in bars here in Europe are Americans?!?!?! Those people foster the idea that the rest of us are just like them! This woman was unbelievable!
So we ate at the Tattershall Castle (barge pub and restaurant) on the Enbankment, had big fry-ups for breakfast, visited the British Museum and went to a West End show (Thanks again Sug for buying my ticket). Of course, I kept calling Sir Derek Jacobi by the wrong name (David) and thought Sug was going to have apoplexy thinking I would call him the wrong name – after I made us go to the Stage Door (even though I kept saying it was her idea ;) ) so we could get a photo or an autograph. I promised (and kept that promise) I would not call him David. I called him Sir. He was very sweet to pose for a photo with each of us. The show was quite well written as well! It was fabulous to see such an accomplished artist on stage. We also had awesome Cream Tea in the crypt of St. Martin of the Fields – yum! The weather was entirely tolerable – rain in the day but clear in the late afternoons and evenings. All in all a great weekend.
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